What I Failed to Realize
by Beautiful Figment
Summary: After an awkward encounter, Jasper realizes he doesn't know his best friend like he thought he did. AH/OOC/SLASH
1. Under the Blanket

**A/N Stephenie Meyer owns The Twilight Saga, its characters and everything else. I merely own the laptop on which I wrote this. Thanks to Beate73 and Twiboy for betaing this chapter.**

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Christ, I can't get this song out of my head. What's even worse is I can't, for the life of me, think of the name of it. The melody just keeps spinning circles in my mind, driving me up the wall. Even the movie I'm watching isn't helping to drown it out. The fact that I've resorted to humming the damned melody isn't helping matters either.

I'm sitting in the basement watching _Primal Fear_. I've watched it eleventy hundred times because it's fucking epic. Now I'm watching it for educational purposes. We're wrapping up our section on mental disorders in class and we have to present a case study on our chosen disorder. Mine is Dissociative Personality Disorder. My case study is Aaron. It doesn't matter that he's faking – he has nailed every aspect that makes this disorder fascinating to me.

Still, I can't concentrate on the film because of the song that's looping through my skull.

I share this big ass house with my brother, Emmett and two of our mutual friends who we've known since preschool, Edward Masen and Jacob Black. Emmett is at the gym, that meat head. Edward is God knows where – most likely squirreled away in his room with the latest hottie he has managed to dazzle in class. Jacob is in the basement with me, throwing darts.

I don't know why he keeps it up; his aim is impeccable. We all stopped playing against him when we realized he could nail the bull's eye from across the room. Blindfolded.

Showoff.

I resume my humming, certain that as soon as I remember the name of the fricken song, it will be out of my head.

"What the fuck _is_ it?" I mutter.

THUNK!

I hold my breath and hesitate before turning my head to look at the dart that's lodged in the wall not half an inch from my ear.

"What the _hell_, Jake?"

The target's situated on the opposite wall, nowhere near the couch.

"That humming was getting on my nerves," he responds, before resuming his assault on the felt target.

"Shit. You could have just _said_ something instead of trying to impale me. By the way – you missed."

He chuckles. "I wasn't talking about _your_ humming. And I didn't miss."

_Huh?_

Jacob walks back to the wall where the dart juts out from the dark wood paneling, and he yanks it out before showing it to me.

The remains of a housefly speckle the metal point.

He caught a housefly. With a _dart_.

"I'm impressed, Jake." Seriously. That's talent right there. Catching a fly with chopstick is so 1984.

"Sure, sure." He cleans the dart off with his shirt and throws it over his shoulder at the target, keeping his eyes on me. He's grinning like a jackass.

I know I should be used to this, but my eyes nearly fall out of my head, because sure enough - bull's eye.

"I _am_ the fucking man. You can admit it, Jazz."

"Yes, you are the fucking man because you can throw sharp objects at the wall. Good for you." He scared the shit out of me when he hit that fly. I'm still a little pissed about that.

Scoffing, he walks over to the target to retrieve his weapons.

"The song's by Muse, by the way."

"Excuse me?" _What the hell is he talking about now?_

"_Supermassive Black Hole_. The song you're humming."

_Well, I'll be damned._

I chuckle. "Thanks, Jake. I needed that."

"You're welcome. Now kindly shut the hell up. You're fucking with my concentration."

And mine's gone. I'm gonna finish the movie later. Time for a nap, because…well, just because. Heading upstairs to the kitchen, I throw back a glass of iced tea. After refilling the glass, I toss in a few lemon slices before making my way up to the second floor to my bedroom.

Climbing the stairs, I hear laughter coming from Edward's room. It's Edward and he's chuckling and snorting with abandon.

"Stop! Stop it! You're killing me!"

I can't help but snicker. Bella's back. I knew he couldn't stay away from her for too long and she's the only one I've known to make him laugh like that.

"Well, hey. Now you don't have to stop _that_." His chuckle drags out into a hum.

Now this just got interesting in a hurry.

I tiptoe up to his doorway. My intentions are to listen until he's about to lose it and then poke my head in and scare the crap out of both of them. I'll finally be able to get back at him for pulling a similar stunt with Alice and I.

Alice had been in Seattle for a week visiting her parents, and by the time she returned home, I had been going through some serious withdrawal. As a result, we wasted no time getting into my bedroom and yanking off all our clothes for some frantic fucking. No foreplay, no sweet talking, just grunts, groans, and skin slapping skin. I had Alice on all fours while I stood at the foot of the bed, speeding towards what was sure to be a tremendous orgasm when I heard a shrill whistle behind me.

"Hoooowee! Get her, John Wayne! Show her how the cow ate the cabbage!" Edward ducked out of the room cackling just as I sent a throw pillow careening toward his head.

_That fucker._

Payback time. I quickly decide that instead of popping in and shouting "boo" or something similarly lametastic, it would be even sweeter if I dump my iced tea on that messy bed-head of his. He hates tea of any kind; he refers to it as "rancid piss".

Captain Cock-Block has some justice to dole out.

I hear some mumbled curses and words of encouragement from Edward followed by his hums of satisfaction. Checking my watch, I see that I've been standing here for more than five minutes, and he doesn't even sound close. Edward has frequently bragged on Bella's fellatic skills and how she wastes no time in sucking him into oblivion. The fact that he sounds like he's barely warmed up means one of three things: One – Edward exaggerated. Two – Bella is drawing things out for the fun of it. Three – Bella's losing her touch.

I begin to give up on the Adventures of Captain Cock-Block because I'm not going to wait all day for this to reach its peak when I could be taking a perfectly good nap right now. And I am not about to waste my tea on Edward unless he's as close to the brink as I was with Alice. It wouldn't be nearly as much fun that way.

"Mmmm…there you go. Just like that," Edward purrs.

I now hear muffled slurps and wet suction. It sounds like Bella's under a blanket, which is quite a shame because I absolutely _love_ an audible blow job. The faint sounds drifting to my ears are making me hard.

Looking down at the bulge in my jeans, I decide that when I finally get to my bedroom, my nap is going to have to be put off for just a little bit.

Suddenly, I hear Edward growl. "Fuck! Ung, don't stop!" He starts breathing heavily through his nose.

I cover my mouth to conceal the snicker threatening to bubble forth as I prepare to jump in and douse him.

"Whoa, whoa whoa. Slow down a bit, babe. No, don't stop…just slow down. There you go."

_What the hell? Come on, Edward! Captain Cock-Block has shit to do! I have a dick to yank and a nap to take. Let's get this show on the road!_

"I smell that rancid piss you call a beverage, John Wayne. Get your ass in here," Edward calls out.

_Fuck! Fuckin' _shit!

Oh, and did I mention that he has called me John Wayne ever since he walked in on us? Cock-blockin' fucktard.

Clearing my throat, I adjust the front of my jeans and finally appear in the doorway. Leaning back against the door frame, I take a sip of my iced tea.

"I totally planned on pouring it on your head, Masen. I'm still pissed at you."

The man has absolutely no shame, neither does Bella. He's sitting in his bed with his back against the wall and he's not wearing a shirt. Bella remains under the comforter, hidden from sight. What's not hidden, however, is the fact that she is still very obviously bobbing her head up and down in Edward's lap.

See? No shame.

Edward chuckles and his eyes roll back in his head.

"Fu-huck!" He bites his lip and squirms where he sits.

Shaking his head, he finally says, "Jasper. Seriously. That was a fricken month ago. Certainly Alice isn't still carrying a grudge, and if she is, that means you're not doing your job very well."

The juicy, wet sounds of an epic blow job in progress start to fill my ears once more. The sounds are now amplified by my proximity and I have to adjust my jeans again.

I clear my throat. "Well, on _that_ note," I say before I start to turn around.

My movement catches Edward's eye and he glances at what is now an embarrassing bulge in my pants. Thank you, Bella. Now he knows what I'm planning to do once I get back to my bedroom.

A half grin appears on Edward's face just before he bites his lip. Closing his eyes he says, "Wo-ho-ho. Watch the teeth, baby."

Rolling my eyes, I turn towards the door again before he speaks.

"So, you gonna ask Alice to come over and help you with your problem?" he asks, glancing at my pants again.

"Might…might not." Taking another sip of my drink, I head for the door.

"Well, if it's…good God...if you're leaning towards 'might not', you're welcome to join us."

I stop dead in my tracks.

_Hello._

I am now totally considering my options. Prepare for my nap and take care of things myself, call Alice and beg her to get her little ass over here, or hmmm…Bella. Now there's a thought. And she's still going to town, not even objecting to Edward's suggestion.

Alice and I aren't exclusive. We're both free to see other people and she exercises that freedom frequently. I'm just happy having someone willing to scratch the itch when I get one. She's phenomenal in bed but annoys the shit out of me otherwise. We wouldn't last five minutes outside of the bedroom together.

So…Bella. A peach if there ever was one. She has long, thick, brown hair, chocolate brown eyes, the perkiest breasts, and legs for days. Hell yes, I'd tap that.

"Hmmm. Well, Edward, you might wanna get permission from your bashful partner there, first."

He chuckles, squeezes his eyes shut and bites his lip. "One step ahead of you. Permission already granted."

_He was planning this? Hell, this will be very interesting, indeed._

He sneaks a peek under the comforter and says, "Why don't you come out and say, 'hello' to Jasper?"

He draws the comforter back.

"Hello, Jasper."

I'm suddenly choking on my iced tea as I dart out the door, and I'm flying down the stairs before I even realize my brain has issued the order to my legs.

That is _definitely not Bella_.

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**A/N Thanks for reading :)**


	2. What Jasper Failed to Realize

**A/N Stephenie Meyer owns the Twilight Saga, its characters and everything else. I merely own the laptop on which I wrote this. Thanks to Beate73 for betaing.**

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_Oh. My. Word. What the hell was that?_

And I almost…holy hell. I can only imagine what's going through their heads right now.

After downing the rest of my iced tea and setting the glass on the counter, I scrub my face with my hands. Without even thinking, I remove an extra thick lemon slice from the glass and suck on it hard, as I hear the thunderous footfalls of Jacob hauling ass up the basement stairs.

"Holy shit!Did you fall down the stairs? I thought I was gonna come up here to find that you broke your neck."

I shake my head violently, still sucking on the lemon.

After clearing his throat, Jacob asks, "Um, Jazz? Are you sucking on a lemon?"

I'm sure my contorted facial features already answered his question but I nod my head and answer anyway. "Sometimes a lemon is necessary."

Okay, so that sounded better in my head, but right now, I'm just trying to regain my senses. And I was kinda hoping the lemon would have a brain bleach effect. No such luck.

He raises an eyebrow in response and before I can explain, I hear the sound of bare feet tentatively padding down the staircase. I don't even look up because I already know who it is.

Jacob chooses this time to start rummaging through the fridge for something to stuff his face with. He settles on some leftover pizza from God knows when and hops up on the counter, casually nodding to the third party who has now joined us in the kitchen.

"I have a feeling you didn't expect to see me, Jasper."

Understatement of the century.

"Sure didn't." I still haven't looked up. I just stand there staring at my shoes with the mangled remains of the lemon in my hand.

Jacob is already working on pizza slice number two. "Wutter _you_ doon hurr, Mocky?" he asks while attempting to process the cold pizza in his mouth.

Mike fuckin' Newton. Newton and Edward. What. The. Hell.

"I was just visiting with Edward," Mike responds with a smile.

"Oh." Jacob nods and continues to demolish his pizza.

_Jesus, Jake. If only you knew what I just walked in on._

My shock over what just took place is compounded by multiple factors. First of all, I was so sure that Bella was back in town and it was her that had Edward twisted in a knot. She and Edward have been together on and off for the last several years. When they were on, they were like giddy children and fucked like God damned jack rabbits. When they were off, it was common knowledge that Edward played the field and played it well. Second, even if it wasn't Bella with her head in Edward's lap, I _certainly_ never thought it would have been a dude. I mean, what the hell? So now he's gay? Third, that it was Mike Newton giving my best friend a blow job just blew my fricken mind.

The fact that Mike is gay isn't a surprise to me. I already knew he was because for the past two semesters he'd blatantly made it quite clear that he's into me. He's also very reluctant to take "no" for an answer.

I don't seriously dislike Mike. He's a bit of an annoying goober and an attention whore, but he's really a decent guy. I certainly don't hold his sexual preferences against him; I just don't share those preferences, much to his dismay. For that matter, it truly doesn't bother me that he's attracted to me. The fact that he pesters me frequently to give him a shot - and I'm putting that nicely; he's a bit more specific about what he really wants me to give him - is what bugs me to no end. Some people just don't know when to quit.

My problem with Mike grew even bigger a few weeks ago when Alice let it slip that she talked me into getting my tongue pierced. It wasn't my intention to make a big fuss over my new body art and I was pretty successful keeping it under wraps for fear of what my mother would think. Alice had to open her mouth, though, in front of Mike which resulted in him proposing marriage. Now he practically salivates every time he sees me.

I shudder to think about what was going through Mike's head when Edward proposed a threesome with me and him. Obviously, this had been thought out beforehand, because after I suggested that he discuss the possibility with the, at the time, unknown party, he advised me that they were already on board. Why the hell did Edward think I would go along with that?

And what the _fuck_ made him lose interest in chicks?

While I'm all but lost in my thoughts, I hear Edward bounding down the stairs.

_Shit. Here we go._

To my utter shock, he acts like nothing happened.

"Hey, Jake," he says before grabbing a beer from the fridge.

Turning to face the three of us in the kitchen, he asks, "Anyone else want one while I'm in here?" Turning to me, he adds, "One can't live on rancid piss alone, Jazz."

Finally, I look up and flip him off. This earns a snort of laughter from Edward and causes Mike to smirk.

"I'm good. I have to get going anyway. Got a project to work on for Psych. How's yours coming, Jazz?" Mike asks.

Now he wants to make polite conversation.

"It's getting there. Reviewing a film for my case study at the moment," I respond, trying to be equally nonchalant.

Jacob, having finally concluded his massacre of the leftover pizza, says, "Well, I don't have a project to work on. I do, however, have that sweet thing from the computer lab that is just dying to see my new Yamaha. No time like the present to offer her a ride," he says, wagging his eyebrows.

"Computer lab. You talking about that gal with the hippie name?" I ask.

"Renesmee. Hooo…that girl is something else," Edward adds.

"Dude, don't even tell me-" Jacob begins before Edward cuts him off.

"No, no, no. Never had the chance. Besides, I have it on good authority that she may want to ride more than just your Yamaha," Edward says with a wink.

"Well, in that case, I believe I have somewhere else to be," Jacob says, jumping off the counter and wiping his hands off on the front of his jeans.

The next sound I hear is Jacob cranking up his bike. Apparently, I'm in a daze because I haven't even registered the fact that he left the room. What _does _register is the fact that I'm now alone with Edward and Mike.

Great.

However, now that Jacob's gone, I don't have to worry about giving away any information that's not mine to divulge. It's time to clear the air and hopefully put all this shit behind us.

I'm gonna need an entire bottle of Captain and a whole lotta Alice to put this shit behind me; I can see that right now.

Mike is the first to speak. "Jasper, are we cool, man?"

I take a deep breath and release it before I answer. "Mike, I had no idea that you and Edward had a thing going on-" I say before I get cut off.

"Jasper, it's not really a-" Mike starts.

"Let me finish, please. What_ever _y'all have, it really doesn't matter to me. I'm cool with it, seriously." I stop for a moment and look at Edward so he knows this is directed at him, too. He's my best friend; I don't want something like a completely shit-brained misunderstanding to mess things up between us. "But, Mike, I want you to really hear what I'm saying to you. Your come-ons and overzealous flirtations have got to stop. I. Am. Not. Interested. If you didn't get that before, _please_ get that now. If what happened upstairs caused you to get your hopes up for a brief moment that I finally came around, I'm sorry. I was considering it only because I honestly believed there was a girl involved. I'm not into guys, _period_. Okay? Please tell me you understand that."

Edward clears his throat and Mike and I both look at him.

"Mike, I didn't realize you were into Jasper. I really wouldn't have put you in that position if I knew that," he explains.

Mike laughs. "Edward, really, you can put me in any position you'd like."

I can't help but groan and roll my eyes at that comment.

He then turns towards me and completely rakes his eyes over my body. "Jasper just has that little something…extra that just gets to me," he says with a wink.

Shit. This is not the time for him to be making a joke about my tongue ring. Please, not right now. Unless Alice went bragging to everyone in the house about it, the only people besides her and I that know what I had done, would be her girlfriends and Mike. I can see things will be completely awkward if this particular information is shared with Edward right now.

"Well, I'm gonna head outta here," Mike says, as I silently thank God_._ "See you two on Monday." He pecks Edward on the cheek and raises two fingers to his forehead in a salute to me. After pulling on a pair of ratty brown flip-flops, he lets himself out.

When we both tell him goodbye, it registers with me that we're now alone.

Edward finally pops the top off his beer and proceeds to take a long pull from the bottle.

"So," he says after swallowing.

"So," I echo. Now what?

For a few seconds the ticking of the clock above the sink is the only sound in the room.

"For what it's worth, Edward, I really thought Bella was in bed with you."

He chuckles. "Now if _that_ were the case, we wouldn't have had time for me to ask you to join us. She knows what gets me going a whole hell of a lot better than Mike does."

"About that, Edward…Bella's also a chick."

Cue Theatrical-Dorkus-Maximus-Edward. He clutches his chest and his face contorts into an image of sheer horror. "No fucking way, man! Are you _serious_?"

I just raise my eyebrow at him, wishing he could be serious for one moment so we can have a halfway mature conversation for once.

"I am well aware that Bella's a chick. I also became aware several years ago that being bisexual doubles my options," he explains, taking another swig from his beer.

Did he just say he's been bisexual for several years?

"Several years, Edward?" Just making sure I heard him right.

"Five, actually."

I'm dumbfounded and can't manage to do anything for a moment but shake my head in disbelief. "I'm sorry, I'm a bit confused. This is news to me."

Right then, Emmett comes through the front door bellowing, "Daddy's home!"

Great. We'll have to finish this conversation some other time now.

He saunters into the kitchen sweating and smelling like a dead fucking armadillo.

"Masen, what kind of establishment do you think we're running here where you can just run around the house half dressed?" he asks, before grabbing a liter bottle of Powerade from the fridge and guzzling half its contents.

It's then that I realize that Edward is leaning against the counter opposite of me wearing only a pair of blood red boxers. Not that it matters. I guess it doesn't matter. Does it? No. It most certainly does not matter.

Edward swallows the rest of his beer and after tossing the empty in the trash, he frowns and furrows his brow.

Finally, he looks up at me. "You honestly didn't know?"

Is he kidding me? Did he think I was faking my surprise? And did he really wanna have this conversation in front of my brother?

"Like I said, Edward, 'news to me.'"

Emmett's curious now. "Didn't know what?"

Still looking at me, Edward replies, "That I'm bi."

Wow. Okay. Wait. Does that mean _Emmett_ knows?

Making me feel like an even bigger dipshit, Emmett turns to me with an eyebrow raised. "You're shittin' me, right, Jasper? You didn't know that? I even happen to know for a fact that the first person he ever had the hots for was a guy," he says with a chuckle.

"Fuck, Emmett," Edward scoffs before stalking out of the room.

Now he's bashful? Make that two bottles of Captain. One to forget shit, the other to understand shit.

"So, I guess I'm the only one in the dark, then?" I ask.

Emmett has a deadpan expression on his face and his eyes are trained on the kitchen doorway where Edward hastily made his exit.

Swallowing hard, he replies, "Well, apparently, there are just a few things you failed to realize."

_Well, ain't this some shit? _

"So, how long have you been aware that he's also into guys?" A few things I failed to realize indeed.

Emmett snorts but doesn't say anything.

"You think this shit is funny, Emmett? I'm serious. I feel like such an asshat because I didn't know my best friend as well as I thought I did."

"Really, Jasper, what's the big deal? I mean, it's not like you just found out he's into drugs or something shitty like that." After chugging some more Powerade, he asks, "So, what did he say? How did this conversation come about?"

I shake my head and wonder if I should really tell him. At this point, I really don't know how much information is too much. "It wasn't anything he said." That's safe enough, I guess.

"Oh. Okay, so what actually happened?" he asks while whipping out his cell phone and clicking out a text. Mr. Multi-tasker.

"It really doesn't matter, Emmett." As well it shouldn't. Yes, I'm in shock, but what kind of friend would that make me if I dwell on something as inconsequential as his sexual orientation?

"I really should go talk to him. I don't want him to think that this new found knowledge is gonna throw a wrench in our friendship." I pause before looking back up at my brother.

"Oh, and Emmett?"

"Yeah?" he asks while pocketing his cell.

"You're gonna take a shower, right? Because you smell like the wrong end of an elephant with dysentery," I tell him, holding my nose for effect.

"Actually, I was thinking about rolling around in your bed and stuffing my boxers in your pillowcase. Should keep you from snoring," he says with a grin.

"Jackass." I follow the witty comeback with a punch to his shoulder. Of course, he doesn't feel it because he's just a _little_ bit bigger than me, by a few inches in height and about fifty pounds. I'm no slouch in the muscles department but if Emmett didn't throw his knee out in high school, he would have made a hell of a linebacker for some lucky team in the NFL.

Just then, I hear soft, flowing notes being coaxed out of the baby grand piano in the den.

"He's brooding," Emmett observes with a sigh.

Edward has played piano as long as I've known him. Lately, though, it seems that he only plays when he's upset. The last few months, he's played a lot; losing himself in his music usually brings him back from whatever ledge he happens to be standing on at that point. It's therapeutic for him, which is appropriate given that he's going the Music Therapy route in school. I'm glad that he has that, but I'm certainly not glad for the fact that his therapy sessions have been picking up in their frequency as of late.

He was in such a jovial mood earlier up in his room. Of course, it's hard not to be jovial when you're getting head, but that's beside the point. My running from his bedroom like a bat of out hell and then giving Mike a what-for in the kitchen probably made Edward think that I feel different about him now because of who he is attracted to.

Lord knows I could have handled the situation better. Instead of acting like a twelve-year-old who caught his parents doing the nasty in the middle of the night, I could have simply said, "You know what? On second thought, I think I'll pass." End of story. I didn't have to explain myself to Newton. He already knows and will ignore everything I told him today anyway. He wants what he wants, and too bad if those involved don't want the same thing.

Edward probably now believes because of my actions, that I'm some sort of homophobe, and that things between him and I are going to be awkward. I can't say with any conviction that the latter of those two things certainly won't be the case, but it's something that we should eventually get past.

The situation upstairs could only mean one of two things: One – the joke was on me and he knew I was going to act like a dumbass about it. I can see it now…

"_You should have seen the look on your face, John Wayne! Fucking _priceless_!"_

_That would have resulted in me throwing something at his head and all of us having a good laugh. Then we would have had our little heart-to-heart._

"_Jasper, this may come as unexpected but I wanted you to know that I'm bisexual. We're cool, right?" he would have asked._

"_Absofuckinglutely, we're cool," I would have replied._

Instead, I followed my Flight-of-the-Cowboy with a mini lecture at Newton's expense. That would certainly put a damper on a joke.

Two – he was the one interested in me taking part in an all-guy threesome that included him. If this were the case, that would mean he's into me.

Holy shit. That couldn't be it, could it? I'm dense but I'm not _that_ dense. I can usually pick up on the signals when someone is attracted me; not everybody has to be as obvious as Mike.

Emmett did say that there were a _few_ things I failed to realize. That meant that his sexuality was just one of those few. What else is there? Edward clearly didn't want Emmett discussing his first man-crush - or, as it were, his first crush in general - with me. Why didn't he want me to know?

Jesus, _could_ he be into me? It would definitely make someone upset to be attracted to someone and not have that person return your affections.

No, no, _no_. I'm thinking too damned much. My mind is going into overdrive because I just got hit with a shitload of potent information in a short amount of time.

Christ, the song he's playing is killing me. Normally he starts playing some random song that happened to be dancing around that brilliant mind of his. This song, however I've heard before. I don't recognize it as one of his, but I can't place it.

What the hell is it with me and song titles escaping my grasp today? This is definitely gonna bug me and I'll be lying awake at three in the morning struggling with the mystery. However, I can't

make myself interrupt Edward as his fingers flow across the keys.

The fact that I can't place the song isn't what's killing me; the song itself is practically ripping my heart out. I know I've heard it before and I know it's not as sweet as it sounds. It's a sort of lullaby but it doesn't sound quite right. I probably just haven't heard it on piano before.

_Give it up, Jasper. Just wait for him to finish and see if he wants to talk for Christ's sake._

Standing behind him, I'm careful not to alert him to my presence, and thereby causing him to stop.

I then feel my cell phone vibrate in my jeans pocket, indicating that I have received a text.

_Hey, baby. I'm lonely. Care for some company?_

Ahhh, Alice. My little hummingbird. Those closest to her have nicknamed her _Tinkerbell_. She's ridiculously tiny and petite, has short, black pixie hair and a lilting voice. She reminds me of a hummingbird, though. That is, if hummingbirds got their lattes with a triple shot of espresso. That girl bounces off the fricken walls. She never walks to her destination; she skips. Everywhere. But, sweet Jesus, what that woman can do to me.

So, needless to say, I can't ignore her text.

_Give me thirty, sweets. I could definitely use some company._

Shortly after I send the text on its way, my cell buzzes once again.

_I'll be counting down the minutes until I'm in your bed…er…ARMS! lol_

I smile at that. Naughty hummingbird.

We have been seeing each other - actually, we've been more like kissing, licking, sucking, and fucking each other - for the past two years. When we first met, it wasn't long before we found ourselves trying to keep quiet as we ravished each other in the campus library right before closing time. We quickly realized, though, that we were only compatible in bed.

It doesn't make much of a difference to me. I'm not looking for a relationship and neither is she. We both feed off each other when the need strikes, which is often. She sees - and again, I use the term loosely - other guys and I am completely okay with that. I don't see other girls, though. Not because I'm staying faithful to her, but I figure why try and fix something that isn't broken? I'm quite happy with our arrangement.

Just then, Edward's cell starts ringing on the table beside me, just out of his reach. I'm preparing to reply to Alice's text when he jumps up from the piano bench to grab the phone and he bowls me over.

We land on the floor with Edward on top of me and I can't breathe. The wind is knocked completely out of me and I have what feels like a pinched nerve…somewhere, I don't know where, because all I feel is what could only be described as an electric current that's pulsing through my entire body.

Either that, or I inadvertently licked my finger and stuck it in the light socket on my way down. With the way things have been going, that is very probable.

"Holy shit, Jasper. Are you okay?" Edward asks. He still hasn't moved from his position above me where he's bracing himself with his arms on my chest.

"Can't. Breathe." My words come out in a wheeze.

Scrambling to get off me, he then helps me to my feet.

For several moments, we stand there, looking at each other. Edward's panting like he just ran up several flights of stairs and he looks way too naked for me to feel completely comfortable; still clad in nothing but his red boxers. I shake my head trying to regain my senses.

"Expecting an important phone call, Masen?" I ask after finally finding my voice.

"Huh?" Edward asks, flustered. "Oh…oh yeah! My phone was ringing!"

He grabs it off the table as it starts to ring again.

I see his eyes light up like the Vegas strip when he realizes who's calling him.

"Bella! Hey, baby girl. How the hell are you?"

He starts to leave the room and I tap him on the shoulder, mouthing the words, _Can we talk?_

He shakes his head and mouths the word, _Later._

Fine. Whatever. If we were gonna put this off, there's no reason why Alice has to wait to come over.

_Screw thirty, baby. I'm ready whenever you are._

Not five seconds later, I get a reply.

_Here I come! *wink wink*_

Sitting down at the piano, I finger a few of the keys, musically twiddling my thumbs if you will. Before too long, I find myself mindlessly playing basic scales while I think about what had transpired this afternoon.

Edward's bisexual. Really, it doesn't bother me. We've known each other for as far back as I can remember and I love him like he's my brother. His mutual attraction to men and women is of no consequence. What bothers me, is that I didn't know until today. It wouldn't bother me so much if I didn't know that Emmett already knew, and he made it seem like he had known for a while. Why didn't Edward feel comfortable enough to tell me? Finding him in bed with Mike was a hell of a way to find out, and for that, I was a little peeved. Although, he did act a bit shocked when I told him I wasn't already aware of his orientation so I guess I can't fault him for that.

My thoughts are cut short by the sound of the doorbell.

Opening the door, I see my little hummingbird clad in a calf-length black trench coat. This can only mean wonderful things in store for me.

"Has my Jasper been a good little boy?"

_Oh, yes ma'am._

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**A/N Thanks for reading!**


	3. The Basement

**A/N Stephenie Meyer owns The Twilight Saga, its characters and everything else. I merely own the laptop on which I wrote this. Thanks to Zigster for her awesome beta skills. MUAH! Warning: Graphic smexy times of both the straight and slashy variety in this chapter.**

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Alice's standing in the doorway gently tugging at the tie of her trench coat. I can see that it isn't zippered and the only thing keeping her covered is the tie closure. Slowly, I drag my gaze from her sultry smirk down to her dainty toes that peep out from a pair of impossibly high-heeled ice blue fuck-me-pumps.

"Jasper," she coos, "you didn't answer my question."

"Well, usually you ask me that before you come to see me."

I should explain that. The answer to her question would determine what kind of outfit she wore when she came to visit. If I was a good boy, it was something sweet and simple. Something I could easily remove from her lithe little body and get straight to making her scream six ways from Sunday. If I was a bad boy, she wore something a little more complicated. Something along the lines of corsets and garter belts; something with too many buttons or hooks for me to manage. The visual was always nothing short of stunning, but she would just take advantage of my not-so-nimble fingers and perform a provocative strip tease, dragging out the delectable torture that she calls foreplay until I felt that my balls would fall off froms need of release.

I'm not in the mood to beg and I'm praying she feels that I've been a very good boy.

"What do _you_ think?" I ask, biting my bottom lip.

She glances behind me. "Who's home?"

"Emmett and Edward. Emmett's upstairs in the shower, and Edward is upstairs talking on the phone with Bella. Don't think anyone's coming down here anytime soon."

She doesn't really care who's home; she's more concerned with the last part of my answer.

"Good," and with that she undoes the tie of her trench coat and lets it fall to the welcome mat.

Apparently, I have been a _very_ good boy.

She is wearing the hottest little cami and panty…thingy. I don't know what the hell it's supposed to be called, but _Jesus_. It's in the same shade of ice blue as the fuck-me pumps she's wearing. The top has satin ribbons that tie at the shoulder and there are little ruffles and bows…everywhere. I realize this as she turns around and wiggles her ass for me. Yes, there are ruffles on her ass. Praise Victoria or Fredrick or whoever the hell it was that dreamed this wispy shit up!

That outfit is gonna look even better on the floor, I just know it.

She closes the distance between us and even though her heels add several inches to her height, she still has to stand on tiptoe to reach up for a little kiss. Being the southern gentleman that I am, I see to it that she doesn't have to strain herself too much to reach me. Sliding my hands down her back, I grab two handfuls of that delectable ass, and hoist her up so her legs can wrap around me.

Her hands find their way into my hair and she seals my mouth with hers, not wasting any time before plunging her tongue inside.

I try to slam the door shut, but for some reason it won't close. Breaking away from Alice's kiss, I see that her trench coat is still in the doorway. Thinking quickly, I reach out with my foot and kick it into the air to catch it in my hand behind her. Wind chimes sound as Alice giggles at my performance.

_Christ, the thing weighs as much as she does._

After shutting the door with my foot, I chunk the trench coat on the hutch and shuffle toward the basement stairs.

It's always best to have an entire floor between the two of us and anyone else in the house. The last time we didn't take such precautions, we were unceremoniously interrupted. I don't want that shit happening again.

Alice starts grinding her hips against my erection and I nearly dump us both down the stairs.

"Patience, babe. This is gonna be hard to continue if we're both in body casts."

She answers by dragging her lips down my throat and moaning against my Adam's apple.

Finally, I make it down the steps and Alice squeals as I toss her on the couch. After stretching her arms across the back of the couch, she crosses her legs and wiggles her ass to get deeper into the cushion while she watches me undress.

I peel off my dark gray t-shirt, dropping it on the floor beside me while Alice hisses as she takes in the sight of my naked torso.

I'm not a muscle-bound gorilla like Emmett, but like I said earlier, I'm no slouch. I have well-defined pecs and a six-pack that I'm thoroughly proud of.

My jeans are slung low on my hips and my belt's not doing a good enough job of keeping them up far enough to cover the waistband of my boxer briefs. Glancing down, I can see the very top of my tattoo peeking out.

I got it the night I graduated high school. It was stupid really, but once Alice discovered I had it, she went nuts. The title of the design I chose at the tattoo parlor said it was a Gothic Vampire Bat. I guess if you looked at it the right way, that's what it was. It's pretty obscure and abstract though, which I found appealing. It's a silhouette of sorts, completely black with horns on the head of the demon subject. The wings are spread wide and high, and it's hard to tell if they're made of black feathers or flames. The body is a sharp corkscrew of crisscrossed angles that form a point right at my thigh.

As I slowly undo my belt, I can see Alice start to squirm. Popping the button of my jeans, and lowering the zipper of my fly, I ask her, "What do you want me to do to you, little girl?"

I should mention that she likes to give me instructions. And damn it all if I ain't her happy lap dog, eager to please.

Her eyelids flutter closed and she bites her bottom lip before she answers. "I want you to slide my panties off and put that hot tongue ring to work on my pussy. And I want you to stroke your cock as you do it." She starts squeezing her thighs together and running her hands over her breasts; her nipples tightening to hard little peaks beneath the fabric of her top.

_Fuckin-A_.

"Yes, ma'am," I respond as I slide my jeans off and kneel n front of her.

Alice opens her legs for me and I reach up to tug at the waistband of her ruffled panties. She lifts her hips to help me draw them off her and I toss them to the floor on top of my discarded jeans. Leaning forward, I plant a hungry kiss at the top of her naked, glistening slit.

"Mmmmm…you smell so good, little girl. And you're already so wet for me," I groan against her.

Glancing up, I see her tugging and pinching her nipples through her top. She's watching me, her eyes almost completely closed.

"Jasper," she gasps.

Dragging the flat of my tongue against the entire breadth of her wet heat, I separate her folds and end at her clit. I capture the tiny bud between my lips and hum, causing Alice to tremble from the strength of the vibration. Finally giving her what she wants, I press the stainless steel ball bearing of my tongue ring against the sensitive nub, making her cry out.

"Delicious. My tongue loves your pussy, Alice," I declare, my words muffled against her slick skin. Before she can respond I start rapidly tapping the ball bearing against her clit.

Even though she didn't ask me to, I slip two fingers inside her wet sex and curl them to press against the spot inside her that's just beneath where my tongue continues its relentless assault on her clit. I rhythmically flick my fingertips in a come-hither motion and she starts to buck her hips against me.

"Fuck, Jasper. Just like that," she pants. "Are you stroking yourself?" she asks with a whimper.

Actually, I'm not. I'm putting it off for at least a few more minutes because I'm so aroused at this point that I'd shoot off in no time flat. To distract her from her question, I purse my lips around her bud and suck it firmly. Alice arches her back and presses her head into the couch cushion. Seeing now that she's not gonna last much longer, I reach into my boxer briefs and grip my straining cock. I know that it would feel a whole lot better burying myself inside her, but she didn't ask for that. And truthfully, at this point, I don't give a shit where I get the friction to get off; I'm just grateful to get it.

"Stop teasing me, Jasper. Fuck me with your fingers, baby," Alice begs.

This is where having extra room between us and the rest of the world comes in handy.

Quickly, I withdraw my fingers and use the juices from her excited sex to lubricate my erection. Then bringing them right back where she wants them, I do exactly as she asks with a vengeance.

"Oh…God…_shit_!" she cries.

I haven't ceased my ministrations on her clit, and I start to pump my cock with vigor.

In my state, I never heard that someone was coming down the basement stairs. I only realize that something is up when Alice suddenly grows silent.

Dropping her voice to an angry whisper, she says, "Jasper, if you stop what you're doing, I will inflict serious bodily harm upon you."

Hesitating for a moment, I decide that my safety is more important than any embarrassment from being caught, because she's not kidding. She is very capable of causing damage if she's pissed enough. Robbing her of an orgasm would definitely result in one pissed-off hummingbird.

I rationalize that if Emmett's coming downstairs for something, he won't be sticking around for long; catching me eating a girl's pussy would probably not be something he'd want to draw out. At least, I don't think he would. That'd just be too fucking weird. Plus, after the awkward afternoon Edward and I had, I can't imagine he'd attempt a John Wayne joke at this point.

I continue to work Alice into what is now a silent frenzy but the hand stroking my cock has slowed almost to a stop.

As I strain to hear who just entered the basement, I work on my resolve to not give a shit what happens if something embarrassing is said or done.

"Bella, let me call you back, sweetie."

I hear a cell phone snap closed before he speaks again.

"Enjoying yourself, Tinkerbell?" Edward asks Alice, amusement evident in his voice.

Alice giggles above me.

_Don't you do it, don't you do it!_

"I'm about to," she coos as she grabs a handful of my hair. Apparently, I slowed down to the point where she thought I was going to stop.

"I can see that," he says with a chuckle.

_Why isn't he leaving?_

"Need an extra hand there, honey?" His voice has dropped an octave.

He's aroused, and he's not leaving.

"Absolutely."

"Alice, what are you _doing_?" I ask, barely above a whisper.

I still haven't moved my head from its place in between her thighs.

She answers my question with a less than gentle tug of my hair, bringing my gaze up to meet hers. Okay, so hers is more a seething glare than a gaze, but regardless, our eyes are locked.

Really, it's not her fault, she had no idea what transpired today. Nothing has ever been out of bounds for us; group sex included. We're a don't-knock-it-till-you've-tried-it kind of couple. This is different though.

Yes, Edward has been my best friend for as long as I can remember; it shouldn't be a big deal. Except that now, it is. Knowing now that Edward is also into guys would make this more than just a bit awkward for me. To be honest, the idea creeps me out a little.

Edward is already moving and I can't bring myself to voice my objection. I can feel him standing directly behind me now, the heat of his body coming off him in waves.

"Jasper," Edward whispers.

The sound of him whispering my name like that makes me suddenly gasp for breath.

"Do you want me to leave?"

I squeeze my eyes shut before looking at up at Alice. Her response to the unspoken question in my eyes is a pout.

_Fuck me_.

I could only manage to barely shake my head, "no".

Edward comes around to stand beside me, facing Alice. Leaning forward, he places a hand on the sofa cushion where she's resting her head. She looks at him expectantly, sucking her bottom lip into her mouth while he smiles at her as he reverently caresses her cheek with the hand not supporting his weight against the sofa. Her eyelids flutter closed as he leans in to kiss her.

Alice doesn't seem to notice that I have completely stopped what I was doing to watch.

After gently kissing her lips, Edward pulls back ever so slightly to take in a shuddering breath. Alice gasps just before he crushes his lips to hers. Right before they connect, I catch sight of his tongue darting into her mouth. It has to be some kiss because it elicits a throaty moan from her.

Suddenly, Edward breaks away, causing Alice to whimper.

Edward whispers in her ear, just loud enough for me to hear. "Slide closer to the edge of the sofa for me, Tink."

I rock back on my heels as Alice does what he asks. Her new position allows Edward to scoot in behind her so she's seated between his legs with her back to his chest.

I watch Edward slide his hands down her arms in a gentle caress as he begins to kiss and suck the skin at the crook of her neck. Working their way back up to her shoulders, his hands sneak under her arms to cup her breasts. She mewls at his touch and starts to rock her hips back into his lap causing him to groan into her neck.

"Alice, do you want us to make you come, baby?" Edward asks.

My breath catches in my throat listening to him talk to her.

Squeezing her eyes shut, Alice presses her hips back even harder against him.

Biting her bottom lip, she simply says, "Mmmhmmm."

_What?_ _No instructions?_

"Good. Now, just relax, and let us take care of you," he croons, nipping at her earlobe.

He looks up at me and flashes a crooked grin before slipping the silk ties of her ruffled top off her shoulders, pushing the fabric down to expose her breasts.

Now completely exposed, her nipples have tightened into tiny pebbles, which Edward wastes no time in manipulating with the thumb and forefingers of each of his hands. He alternates between rolling them between his fingers and strumming them with his thumbs. The combination is apparently driving her mad.

"Uhh…mmm…Edward!" she cries as she bucks her ass against his groin.

He growls into the skin of her shoulder and bites down on her skin causing her to yell his name again.

_Now, it's time to show him how she can really scream._

Positioning myself back between her parted thighs, I seal my lips around her clit. Her sharp intake of breath turns into a shout when I begin to nudge the underside of the tiny bud with my tongue ring. I start out slow but quickly pick up the pace.

When I see the muscles of her thighs begin to quiver, I thrust my fingers inside of her again. My rhythmic thrusting begins to match the pace of my tongue and I'm rewarded with a squeal, quickly followed by _my_ name.

"Fuck! _Jasper!_"

"Mmmmm…sounds like Jasper's doing a good job," Edward murmurs into her ear.

She responds by rapidly nodding her head in affirmation.

"I'm willing to bet you're pretty close to coming on his face, am I right?" he asks before tugging sharply on her nipples and dragging his tongue up the column of her neck.

"Oh, yes. I'm very close," she whimpers.

"Describe it to me. What is he doing so well that it makes you scream, honey?"

Looking up at her, I'm anxious to see if she's able to speak English let alone give him any kind of description. The thought of her singing my praises while I continue to push her towards the brink, however, is making my dick twitch. Without thinking, I reach into my boxer briefs and begin to stroke myself again.

"He's…uugghhh…fucking my pussy with his fingers. So good, Jasper. God!"

"What else is he doing?" Edward whispers.

"Mmmmm…he's…_uh_! He's…flicking my clit with his tongue ring."

_Well, shit. So much for keeping that a secret anymore._

I shift my eyes from Alice's face to Edward's to gauge his reaction. His eyes squeeze shut for a fraction of a second before fixing them on me. I expect him to be at least mildly amused with this little piece of information. What I'm not expecting is to see the unbridled lust in his eyes that shoots right through me.

"I'm sorry," he croaks. "Did you just say that Jasper has a tongue ring?"

Alice rapidly nods her head in response.

He turns his head toward her ear, keeping his eyes on me. "How very, _very_ lucky for you." He thrusts his hips against her bottom and she cries out.

"Shit, Edward. You're so hard!" she growls.

Involuntarily, I groan deeply against her and increase the pace of my strokes in my underwear. Why hearing her say those words has this effect is beyond me. All I know is that I'm not gonna last much longer.

"Jasper! Ungh…fuck…coming," she moans.

With one last flick of my tongue ring at her clit, I remove my fingers from inside her and replace them with my tongue. I feel her inner walls clamp down as I continue to impale her. When she cries out in release, I eagerly lap at the nectar that practically floods my mouth. I'm so caught up in the moment that I barely hear Edward speak to her again.

"That's it, baby girl, let it go." I flick my eyes up in time to see him kissing her, Alice using the hand closest to him to tangle in his messy locks. She finally draws back and works on catching her breath.

Edward groans against her ear. "I bet you taste so fucking sweet when you come."

She visibly shivers at his words before giving him an absolutely wicked smile. "You want a taste?"

Edward chuckles. "I couldn't do that to you. I'm sure you're more than a bit sensitive at the moment."

"I didn't mean directly from me," she responds, casting her eyes down to me.

_What?_

She winks at me.

_You have _got _to be shitting me._

Then she pouts.

Fine. Edward can't take advantage of her in her sensitive, post-orgasmic state, but I decide in that moment that she's gonna work for this. With the fingers I just used to fuck her, I dip them just inside her dripping pussy to gather a bit of her honey, causing her to whimper and buck her hips in response.

I hesitate for just a moment before bringing my fingers up to Edward's mouth. His eyes darken slightly as he parts his lips. Gently, I run my fingertips around the soft, pink skin and I see him tremble just before he closes his eyes. I gasp as he sucks my fingers into his mouth and slides his tongue between them. Hearing my reaction, his eyes snap open before he begins to suck on my fingers in earnest.

_Fuck._

Apparently, I said the word aloud because Alice giggles. A grin meant for the devil consumes her face as she turns to whisper in Edward's ear.

"You know, Edward, I'm pretty sure you can still taste me on Jasper's tongue."

My heart begins to race, and I can't tell if it's out of anger at what Alice is proposing, or out of hope that he would test her theory. Obviously, my lust and desperation for release is getting the better of me. At this point, I would really like some kind of interaction other than that of the solo variety to get off. Again, my need outweighs my desire to choose just how I will achieve this.

"Come here, Jasper," Alice coos.

Grabbing my face, she pulls me in for a kiss, her tongue slipping between my lips, and briefly dancing with my own.

"Mmmmm…yes. You can still taste it, Edward," she whispers after pulling back from our kiss.

"Show him, Jasper."

_Hell_.

Don't knock it till you've tried it, right?

Turning my head slightly, I look at Edward. He's breathing through his nose and I can see his pulse pounding in the artery on his neck. I'm suddenly consumed with the desire to bite his skin and suck on that very spot.

_What's_ wrong _with me?_

I push that urge aside and decide that if he really wants a taste, of Alice or me – I'm not sure which at this point - I better do this quickly before I lose my nerve. Closing my eyes, I gently press my lips to his. Suddenly, that pinched nerve, finger in the light socket sensation returns. It jolts my heart and my entire body thrums with its current. Confused, I whisper his name. Edward answers by grabbing the back of my head and stealing my breath with his kiss. My mouth opens in surprise and I feel his tongue slip inside.

Alice groans slightly; apparently, she is actually enjoying watching the two of us kiss.

_Naughty hummingbird_.

Deciding that if she's looking for a show, I'm not gonna disappoint. Of course, right now, I'm not entirely sure if I will be doing this for her or for me.

_Of course it's for her. Isn't it?_

Edward's hand is at the back of my head, grasping a handful of my hair. In response, I tilt my head and deepen our kiss, groaning into his mouth. I nudge the underside of his tongue with my tongue ring, I hear him whimper.

Normally, I think before I speak. Right now, that's not possible.

"You like that don't you, Edward?" I ask him.

"Hell yes," he whimpers against my mouth.

"Tell me something. Is it Alice's flavor that you're enjoying right now, or mine?"

Alice slips from between us and scrambles to the other end of the sofa, giggling.

_Wicked fucking hummingbird._

Edward quickly slides to the edge of the sofa, taking Alice's previous position. Before I even realize what's happening, he presses his boxer clad erection against me.

"What do _you_ think?" he growls.

I don't have time to respond before he grabs my head to kiss me again, causing me to unconsciously moan into his mouth. My hands start to move of their own volition as they reach behind him to clasp behind his back, pulling him closer to me. Edward whimpers as he pulls back to start kissing down my neck. He rubs his cheek against my jaw and I shiver from the sensation created by his stubble rasping against my skin. My fingers dance across the skin of his back, and I feel him shudder as he lays a trail of open mouth kisses on my collarbone. Reflexively, my hips buck against his body, seeking friction.

I never even register movement as Edward pushes me on my back onto the basement floor. In an instant, he's on top of me, holding my hands above my head. We both struggle to take labored breaths and my brain has now gone into overdrive. The lust radiating off the two of us is fucking tangible, and all I can think about is how my best friend has me pinned beneath him, looking at me like I'm something to eat.

I've never been this turned on before. _Ever._

Edward pushes my legs apart with his knee and settles his hips in between my thighs. Pressing his hips forward, he grinds his erection into mine.

_Holy._ _Fucking. Shit._

I arch my back and cry out through gritted teeth. Edward is still looking at me, his trademark lopsided grin on his face. Pressing his lips to my ear, he throws my words back at me in a deep purr. "You like that, don't you, Jasper?" I whimper pitifully in response and strain against the hands that keep me pinned to the floor.

His voice turns to gravel as he continues to purr into my ear. "I'll take that as a, 'yes.'"

I'm gone. Fucking _gone._

He brings his lips back to mine again, and starts to rock his hips, our swollen cocks sliding against each other. The friction of his movements combined with the tugging of the fabric of my boxer briefs is hurtling me towards my climax.

The urgent way he kisses me, thrusting his tongue against mine, indicates that he's getting close as well.

The movements of his hips are becoming more insistent and I start to grind into each of his thrusts. I can't hold back the grunts and moans that fall from my lips.

"Jasper, you look so hot under me like this. Your cock feels so fucking good against mine."

"Uh…Ungh…Edward," I gasp.

In a husky whisper, he says, "Come for me, love."

_Love?_

I don't have time to think about what he said. My orgasm rips through me and I strain against Edward and scream. He leans forward to close his lips on my throat and I feel the vibrations as he cries out against my skin. His entire body stiffens and he shudders above me.

Coming down from my high, I relax against the floor beneath Edward. The events of what just transpired start racing through my head at breakneck speed. I'm not dwelling on the threesome, though. My mind keeps returning to the fact that I made out with a man, my best friend. He held me down on the floor and made me come.

It felt good. _Damn_ good.

So why am I crying?

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**A/N Thanks for reading! :)**


	4. The Aftermath

**A/N Stephenie Meyer owns The Twilight Saga, its characters and everything else. I merely own the laptop on which I wrote this. Thanks to Zigster for her awesome beta skillz. *foozles***

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What have I done? What have I done? _What have I fucking done?_!

My body's wracked with silent sobs as tears spill from my eyes and I feel Edward scramble off me. My eyes are squeezed shut, so I have no idea what his reaction looks like and I can't bring myself to look at him. I hear him trying to catch his breath and he's whispering my name like some kind of mantra. Suddenly his hand is on my cheek and I recoil from his touch.

"Don't, Edward…just _don't_."

"Jasper," his voice sounds almost anguished. "I'm…I'm sor…I don't know what to say. What can I do? Talk to me, please," he says, barely above a whisper.

"No. I can't talk to you right now. There is nothing you can do, Edward. And I pray that is exactly what you do. Nothing," I declare, standing to my feet and grabbing my jeans. I still can't bring myself to look directly at him.

I hear his throat click as he swallows. The only sounds that fill the basement at this point are shallow breaths from all three of us and the sound of my jeans rustling as I rush to get them on. I don't even bother with the shirt and I make a beeline for the stairs. Fresh tears are sliding down my face, making me realize I'm still crying.

_What the hell have I fucking _done?

Passing the hutch in the foyer, I see Alice's trench coat. It's still draped over the piece of furniture where I tossed it earlier.

_Fucking Alice._

Snatching up the heavy leather garment, I start to head back for the basement stairs when I almost slam into her.

_Speak of the devil, and POOF!_

"Jasper, I want to talk with you," she says with her eyes downcast and her arms crossed over her chest. She's now wearing the t-shirt I left downstairs, along with those asinine fuck-me pumps, and I decide, in this moment, that I have never seen anything so ridiculous.

I want to deck her.

"No, Alice. You want to talk _at_ me. What I have to say in response won't mean shit to you. It never has. That's why this fucked up relationship you and I have doesn't exist outside of the bedroom. So, kindly, just take your damned coat and leave."

She lifts her chin in defiance and glares at me. The self-righteous look she's giving me makes me want to deck her twice as hard.

"For such a smart man, you are truly fucking stupid, Jasper," she snaps.

_Excuse me?_

"First of all, we're all consenting adults. You were not forced to do a damned thing just now. And don't even give me shit that Edward held you down or that I talked you into anything. At _any_ time, you could have said something to end it. 'Stop'. 'No'. 'Don't'. _Something_."

_Fuck you, Alice. I couldn't think for Christ's sake!_

Did I actually say that? No. Because, apparently, I'm now a giant pussy.

"Don't you find it a little odd that in the same afternoon Edward comes out to you, he actually makes a move on you?"

"Wait…how did you know about that?" I ask.

"It doesn't matter. I know a lot of things, Jasper…now stop interrupting."

I now have my arms crossed over my chest. If I don't make a concerted effort to try and absorb what she is saying to me, I am in grave danger of following through on my earlier desire to hit her. Hard.

"Edward is very good at reading people, Jasper. He would never have been that bold had he not gotten signals from you that it was okay. Whether you want to admit it or not, you were practically drowning him in signals."

I feel like I'm about to vomit.

"Second of all, Edward cares for you. Very, _very_ much. It would literally kill him if this screws up your friendship. You owe it to him to sit down and talk with him like an adult."

I draw in a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Well, your get-to-know-your-best-friend-a-little-better exercise was a complete fuck-up, Alice. Especially since you were really just using this to get your rocks off. This was just some fantasy of yours, nothing else. And now, I'm all…_fuck!_" Here comes fresh waterworks.

_Great._ _Fucking great._

"Jasper, I'm not gonna lie and say that I didn't enjoy myself. I was essentially killing two birds with one stone in that respect, but my main purpose was to try to get you to test the waters; to show you what completely eludes you but is so damn obvious to everyone else—"

"Just what the hell is _that_ supposed to mean? Don't try to tell me that this was just some altruistic way to get us to realize that deep down he and I have some kind of cosmic love connection or some shit," I snarl at her.

"Stop. Interrupting. Me. You need to talk with him. If you think _you're_ messed up now, imagine what _he_ is going through. Grow a damn backbone and talk with him, Jasper."

At that, I throw her trench coat at her, shock registering on her face. I'm not sure if she hears me when I speak next. "Lose my number, Alice," I whisper before heading upstairs to the shower.

I don't hear her leave the house. Nor do I hear if Edward ever emerged from the basement. All I want to think about at this moment is getting in the shower, and finally taking that nap.

Shedding the two remaining articles of clothing I'm still wearing, I step under the hot, pulsing spray of the shower head. Before I even register what's happening, I'm sitting on the floor of the bathtub with the water pounding my face.

I'm crying again.

"Fuck! _**FUCK!**_" I can't help but scream at the tile walls surrounding me, and I'm reduced to a heap of child-like sobs. I'm so confused, and right now, it seems as though the only thing my body can do to cope with that confusion is to cry like a God damned baby.

Just then, I hear a knock at the door.

_You have _got _to be shitting me._

"Jazz, you okay in there, bro?"

Thank God for small favors. It's Emmett.

"Seriously, dude. No need to cry over it. The sheets will come completely clean in the wash. I'm fairly certain, actually," he calls into the bathroom.

I snicker in spite of myself. I can always count on Emmett to, at least, partially, drag me out of my hole of misery.

"I'm only crying because I'll have to wait another half hour before I'll be able to make pissing in your sock drawer worthwhile, you fuckwad."

"So does that mean you're okay?" Emmett's tone has grown serious. He may be an asswipe at times, but he knows when he needs to cut the shit. He's a good brother. I think I'll keep him.

"Yeah, I'm fine, big guy. I'll be out in a few," I say before dragging my sorry ass into a standing position again.

Following a hasty, half-assed shower, I shut off the water. The entire bathroom is filled with steam, obscuring the mirrors. After toweling off, I yank my jeans back on – it's no easy feat trying to wrap damp skin in denim. Once I toss my boxer briefs in the hamper, I turn to the mirror and look at my muddled reflection. Using my forearm, I swipe some of the moisture from the glass and my true reflection comes into focus.

"This is your brain," I say in my best TV PSA voice. Stepping to the side, effectively blurring my image in the mirror, I say, "And this is your brain on fucked-up-man-lust for your best friend."

Continuing to stare at my reflection, I decide that it might help things if I just look at the basement fiasco logically. What started out as a romp on the sofa with Alice, turned into a joint effort between Edward and I to give her an orgasm. That led to a make-out session with Edward, followed by a dry hump on the floor.

When I look at it like that, the whole situation seems rather cheap. I'm not cheap. Alice isn't…really…okay, so she's not cheap either. Edward is definitely not cheap. He's my boy for Christ's sake.

So, now, I'll look at the whole deal for what it really was. It was fucking awesome almost-sex. And if I'm honest with myself, I'm not just referring to Alice's involvement. If I'm truly honest, I'm not referring to her involvement at all.

Edward knows what he's doing.

_So,_ I silently ask my reflection, _does that mean I'm gay?_

I've never had any trouble getting it up for Alice, so I find that hard to believe. What isn't there to love about women? Alice knows what turns me on. Over the course of our relationship, she's learned exactly what gets me.

That's the thing though, isn't it? She learned, over time, what I liked. Edward mastered it in just a few minutes. It makes sense when I think about it. Who better to know what makes a guy tick than another guy?

Regarding my damp likeness, I say, "Fuck it."

Crazy things happen when you start thinking with your dick and I was insanely turned on by the time Edward appeared in the basement. All I wanted to do was get off and he simply helped me with that. The experience confused me because I've never had a sexual encounter with a man, and the fact that Edward is one of my very best friends, who just very recently told me that he was attracted to men—as well as women—added to my anxiety. All I'm doing is overreacting.

As far as what Alice said, she's just overreacting, too. According to Edward, sex has always been nothing more than casual fun. He was just concerned because I suddenly turned into a blubbering infant. Really, though, I guess I should talk with him and make sure things are cool between us. Using the towel, I scrub my face free of what may have remained from my nervous breakdown and leave the bathroom.

As I head for the stairs, I see Edward emerging from his bedroom. He is, thankfully, much more clothed than he was just a little while ago, wearing a white t-shirt and a pair of blue jeans.

"Edward, can we talk for a minute?" I ask.

Apparently, he had been lost in thought because his head shoots up to look at me and he seems shocked to see me standing in the hallway.

"Uh…yes! Of course, yes. Where at?"

"Your room's fine, I guess," I reply with a shrug.

Opening his door, he lets me in his room first before following me inside. After shutting the door, I stuff my hands in my pockets and rock back on my heels trying to think about where to start.

"So…?" he asks, running his hand through his wild, auburn hair, and scratching his scalp.

"So, um…I just wanted to apologize for freaking out, and I wanted to make sure we're cool." For some reason, I can't bring myself to look at him, and instead, keep my eyes trained on my bare feet.

Edward's jovial laughter is confusing considering how I'm feeling right now. "You don't have to apologize, Jazz. No need to make a big deal out of it. You okay? Feeling better?" he asks.

Suddenly, I'm bombarded by the image of Edward holding me down on the basement floor and my heart begins to race. In an effort to keep myself from getting overwhelmed, I sharply pinch the bridge of my nose, and shut my eyes.

"Yeah, yeah…I'm fine. I want to apologize, though, for leading you on and running off at the mouth like I did. I just wasn't thinking straight."

Edward laughs again and says, "Neither was I."

For a moment, I almost overlook the comment until the meaning of what he's said clicks in my head and causes me to chuckle. "Cute, man. That was funny."

"Yeah, well if nothing else, I guess I'm good for a laugh."

Finally looking him in the eye, I say, "Don't you think like that. You're my best friend, and you're good for a hell of a lot more than just a laugh."

The corner of his mouth turns up into a smirk and he nods his head.

"I also need you to know that I don't have a problem with your sexuality, and that I don't think any differently of you because of who you're attracted to. I'm completely, one hundred percent okay with it."

His smirk widens into a grin before he responds. "Thank you, Jazz. That means a lot to me."

Stepping a little closer to him, I ask, "Are we cool?"

"Absofuckinglutely, we're cool," he replies, and I can't help but chuckle at how I imagined a very similar conversation earlier today.

I close the distance between us and wrap my arms around him in a tight embrace, one arm around his shoulder and one around his waist. A hug may seem like an oddball gesture given our afternoon, but the four of us have always been affectionate friends. Not kissy-kissy affectionate, but hugs certainly weren't foreign to any of us. Edward returns my embrace with enthusiasm, mirroring my arm placement and squeezing me tight.

My body stiffens slightly as I feel him inhale deeply through his nose against my neck; an innocent yet intimate gesture, one that I'm not sure how to respond to.

"Edward," I whisper, "I'm straight."

After nodding against my shoulder, he releases me and steps back, looking at his feet.

I walk backwards to the door, keeping my eyes on him until I go to make my exit. Finally, he looks up at me and offers a weak smile.

"Edward, I'm so—"

"If you apologize again, I'll have to hurt you, Jazz," he says with what sounds like a forced laugh.

With a tight-lipped smile, I nod and let myself out, heading for my bedroom. Once there, I close and lock the door behind me before I collapse, full-length on my stomach across my bed before groaning into my pillow.

What I wouldn't give right now to erase the past several hours; to have ignored my curiosity, and need to seek revenge on Edward's prank, to have just gone directly to my room and to have taken a nap like I wanted to in the first place. Curiosity may have killed the cat, but it threw me down the rabbit hole, fed me some hallucinogenic drug, and made me see the kind of rainbows that force Jerry Falwell to cry gay wolf. And now, I'm so confused, I can't form a coherent thought.

The weight of today's events has caught up with me and I drift off into a fitful sleep. I say fitful, because waking up a couple hours later, I don't feel like I've slept at all, and I'm a bit troubled by the dream I had. Troubled may not be the correct word, I guess. I'm hard as a rock and it's pissing me off.

I dreamt about Edward's lips, his hands, his body, fucking manipulating mine, forcing me to react in ways that were foreign to me. My pulse raced, my breathing quickened, and my cock swelled to the point of bursting. True, these reactions aren't exactly foreign to me, but to have these reactions to Edward? My best friend? A fucking _guy_?

As I lie in bed, I'm horrified to find my hand idly palming my erection through my jeans as I try, unsuccessfully, to will away the fleeting images of my dream. Edward's eyes glittering with excitement, his voice like gritty velvet, his skin hot, and slightly damp with sweat, his fingers branding my flesh as they kneaded, gripped, stroked.

My hand is no longer rubbing the bulge in my jeans; it's betraying me by joining my other hand to unfasten my fly to release my erection.

_Fuck it._

If I make this quick, it'll be no harm, no foul. It doesn't have to mean anything, right? _Right_?

Right.

Rolling onto my side, I rummage through the drawer of my bedside table for some lube. No screwing around; I'm gonna set a record and get off before you can say "you better stop or you'll go blind". Finding my half-empty bottle of Astroglide, I quickly flip open the cap, and squeeze some of the slick liquid into my palm before closing the bottle and tossing it on the bed beside me.

Wrapping my hand around my cock in an almost fist, I give myself a couple of strokes causing my hips to immediately jump off the bed.

_Holy shit._

Gripping myself tighter, I let my hand become a blur as I grit my teeth and beat off like I've only got thirty seconds to live. My knees jerk up and my shoulders mirror their movements as my body is involuntarily forced into a crunch position. The muscles in my arm are straining as my fist continues to fly up and down my shaft and I suck my bottom lip into my mouth to muffle the cry that's bubbling up in my chest. That last effort is wasted as a garbled scream rings out, and ricochets off every wall in my room, just before my orgasm tears through me and jets onto my belly, throwing my body into a series of mini convulsions.

"Fuck…oh my fuck…oh fuck…" I pant, as I finally relax back into the mattress.

_What the hell is wrong with me?_

_

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_**A/N Thanks for reading! :)**


	5. The Dusty Stacks

**A/N SM owns The Twilight Saga, all its characters, and everything else. I merely own the laptop on which I wrote this. Thanks to Zigster for her beta awesomesauce. You are amazing *foozles relentlessly*

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**

Blinking several times at the stark screen, I finally flip my completely useless laptop the bird and shut it before dragging my other hand down my face with a groan. Writer's Block. Fuck my life. I can't make the words come out for anything. If a crazed gunman put a pistol to my head and demanded, "Write something worth reading, Cullen!" I would be decorating the laptop with my inept brain matter, because I can't produce shit.

Before I can continue wallowing in self-pity, the bell above the door sounds the entrance of the last person I want to see right now. Putting on a falsely cheerful smile, I sarcastically chirp, "Welcome to The Dusty Stacks, Mr. Newton. What can I assist you with today?"

With a snort, Mike says, "Drop the act, hot stuff. I'm just here to pick up the latest edition of _Kama Sutra_; where would I find that?"

Instead of answering, I simply raise an eyebrow, fold my arms across my chest, and sit back in my chair.

"Christ, no sense of humor today, huh? I'm just looking to add to my Koontz collection. Mind pointing me in the right direction, Jazz?"

I put a smile on my face once again, only because my boss, Peter is in the back office and, while it's a very casual work environment, he wouldn't be too happy with me telling a customer to just fuck off. "Absolutely, sir. Fiction's on the section of shelves closest to the coffee pot. You'll find Dean Koontz about halfway down the second shelf facing the back wall. Looking for any title in particular?"

"Not really. I think I'm good from here, thanks," he says with a wink. I answer with a roll of my eyes before standing to stretch my limbs.

Clearing my scratchy throat, I decide I need to grab a bottle of water from the fridge in the back, so I make my way towards the boss' office. Entering the room, I find him at his desk sifting through invoices before he brings his eyes up to look at me. With a goofy grin, he asks, "We're swamped aren't we? You need my help with the massive throng of customers that has descended upon the store. Am I right?"

"You've got it. I just can't handle them all; I'm pulling my hair out," I reply, reaching into the tiny fridge to retrieve my water bottle.

"Smart ass," he snickers before chucking an eraser at my head.

"That, I am."

The smile on his face falters a bit as he raises an eyebrow and asks, "What's been troubling you, Jasper?"

Shaking my head, I take a swig of my water. I make to leave the office before deciding that it may not hurt to actually unload at least some of the crap that has been building up in my head and making me pissy. Turning back to face him, I say, "School's a general pain in the ass, shit at home's making it difficult to concentrate on what I need to work on, and now I'm suffering from a bout of writer's block. Other than that, things are just peachy."

Peter leans back in his chair and laces his fingers behind his head as his eyebrow raises even higher. "School being a pain in the ass is understandable. If college were simple, everyone would go," he scoffs. "Do you wanna talk about what's going on at home though? Family or roommate trouble? Do you need time off or something?"

"No, no time off. I'm already taking off for two weeks here pretty soon. It's not anything like that. It's just an awkward situation with…it's not family, and it's not exactly something that I can discuss with someone else," I say, letting my voice trail off.

I take a few hearty pulls from my water bottle, and poke my head outside the door to look for Mike before spotting him with his hand in his hair studying a couple of paperbacks.

"You can't discuss it because you've promised to keep it in confidence, or you just don't feel comfortable discussing it?" Peter asks, bringing my attention back to him.

My hair has fallen in front of my eyes. It's chin-length, and normally, at work, I keep it pulled back in a rubber band or something, but I opted to leave it down today. Now, it's giving me something else to fidget with as I push it back out of my face.

I've worked for The Dusty Stacks, and by extension, Peter, since high school. There's only six years difference in age between us and we've always had a very easy, casual relationship. He's my supervisor, but we're also friends. During slow periods at the store—and much to Peter's chagrin, there are many—we shoot the breeze when I'm not working on an assignment or whiling away at my pitiful excuse for a novel. I've always felt comfortable talking with him about different things; school, family, romantic relationships—everything, really. However, I can't see myself talking about Edward with my boss.

As I internally war with myself, Peter asks, "Is everything cool with you and your brother?"

Nodding enthusiastically, I reply, "Yeah, yeah. Emmett and I are fine. He can be a dipshit at times, but overall, we're perfectly fine."

"Jake trying to psychoanalyze you again?"

I have to laugh at that, because it feels like it's been ages since Jacob declared his major in Psychology and tried to make patients out of the rest of us. We all messed with him in one way or another: Edward telling him that he heard voices, Emmett saying that he would have periods of black outs that he couldn't explain, and me telling him how I was convinced that the mailman was really an FBI agent who planted bugs in our mail. Jacob was not amused.

"No, he gave up on that real quick," I answer, taking another swig of my water and glancing out the door again to look for Mike.

"Trouble with Edward, then?"

Swallowing hard, I feel the God awful heat fill my face, and I'm certain that my skin is tinged scarlet. I can only imagine how Pete will interpret my reaction.

"I think we have a winner." Where his tone was lighthearted just moments before, it's completely serious now, and I'm compelled to meet his eyes, wondering how much I'm giving away simply by looking at him.

Can he tell that I have been fighting an almost insatiable desire every time I'm in Edward's presence? Can he tell that I've been unsuccessfully trying to ignore little fantasies that weasel their way into my daytime musings. Fantasies of Edward's broad hands and long fingers sliding against my skin, his breath, hot and needy, skittering across my ear, his arousal pressing into mine? Can he tell that for three full weeks, I've had acutely vivid, erotic dreams about Edward pinning me to the basement floor to grind himself into me, kneeling to forcefully suck my orgasm down his throat, holding me naked in his bed, kissing me, our hot, slick skin gliding in time with every desperate shift of our bodies as his hand caresses my cheek and he calls me "love"? Can he tell that I've woken up several times in a clammy sweat, crying like a god damn baby because I'm so fucking confused?

I nearly choke as I stammer, "Idon'twannatalkaboutit," before rushing out of his office.

Making my way back to the counter, I run into Mike carrying three paperbacks, wearing a dejected look on his face.

"Jazz, I'm sorry."

I swallow a couple times before replying. "What do you have to be sorry about, Mike?"

"I couldn't help but overhear your conversation with Peter; about the fact that things are awkward between you and Edward. I never meant to cause any trouble, man. You have to believe me."

_He heard us talking?_ G_reat._

"No, Mike. Don't worry about it. Everything's fine. Did you find what you were looking for?" I ask, indicating the books in his hands.

"What? Oh, yeah. I don't have these yet; they should keep me busy for a while."

As I'm ringing up his purchase, Mike asks, "How's the book coming?"

Scoffing, I respond, "It's not, at the moment. I'm kinda stuck, actually."

"What's got you stuck? Maybe I can—"

"Don't wanna discuss it, Mike. No offense," I say, offering a weak smile as I hand him the bag with his new books.

"None taken. Um, I do have something I want to talk with you about, if you don't mind. And I have to confess, I didn't come in here just for books."

_Christ. Not now. When will he give _up_?_

"It's not what you're thinking, so don't automatically get pissy with me, Jazz."

"Fine. What did you need?"

"It's about Edward. To put it lightly, he hasn't been himself lately. I know you said that everything's fine, but I find that a little hard to believe." This is the very first time since we've met that I've heard Mike's voice turn dead serious.

Matching his tone, I reply, "If Edward wanted to discuss whatever may be bothering him, he would."

Following a heavy sigh, he says, "With all due respect, Jazz, Edward's my friend, too. He won't tell me what's wrong and if something's bothering him, I want to help him. As his closest friend, I'd think you would want the same thing. Unless, of course, you're the thing that's bothering him."

_You have got to be fucking kidding me._

"With all due respect, _Mike_, if there's a problem between myself and Edward, that would be _our_ business, not yours."

He at least has the decency to flinch at my words. That doesn't, however, keep him from pressing the issue. "Is it because of what happened that day? Are you two angry with me?"

"Absolutely not. It's just a personal conflict between us that I suspect will blow over before too long."

He looks at me as if he's evaluating the validity of my statement, giving me a once over with his eyes. I'm torn between being grateful that he's not making the gesture in a provocative manner like he usually does, and pissed that he's looking at me with such disdain.

"You said that day in your kitchen that you were cool with Edward being into guys. Is that no longer true or something?" he asks, lowering his voice.

He didn't lower it enough for my liking, though; this was _certainly_ not something I wanted to end up discussing with Peter if he overhears us. Any discomfort I have previously endured since Mike appeared in the store has now given way to anger.

Reaching across the counter, I grab a handful of Mike's shirt in my fist and yank him across the counter top, his feet leaving the floor.

"Edward is my best friend. I don't give a flying _fuck_ who turns him on. For you to suggest otherwise is an insult; one that may earn you a kick in the teeth, you annoying little shit. So, I will say it again: if there is a problem between myself and Edward, that would be _our_ business; _not yours_. Have I made myself perfectly clear?"

"Crystal," he wheezes before I drop him back to his feet.

Of course, Peter decides to emerge from his office at this point.

"Pardon my French, but what the fuck, Jazz?" Peter shouts from the doorway.

Before I can attempt an explanation, Mike stammers, "It's okay, everything's fine. We just had a disagreement, and…I think I'm gonna get going." He stumbles out the door before Peter can question him.

Peter keeps his eyes focused on the door as it slides closed. "Kindly explain to me what the hell just happened. I find it hard to believe that throttling customers over the counter is one of the friendly services we offer here."

"Peter, I am _so_ sorry. He just knows how to push my buttons. I shouldn't have let him get to me, but—"

"But, you're not yourself lately, Jasper. I'm gonna ask that you go home for the day and do whatever you need to fix whatever the fuck is wrong. You made it clear that discussing your problem is not an option, and this little display with Newton proves that you need to _find _an option. Find one before you come back to the store on Monday."

He doesn't even look in my direction before walking back to his office, leaving me stunned behind the counter. He and I have never once had a problem since I began working here, so the fact that he is sending me home early, and asking me to not come to work this weekend, comes as quite a shock. I'm not so clueless as to think that I did nothing wrong. That doesn't, however, make this bitter pill any easier to swallow. Packing up my laptop, I dejectedly make my way towards the door before calling a half-hearted farewell over my shoulder to Peter.

I don't receive an answer.

As melodramatic as I may appear to be making the situation, this incident at work with Mike and Peter is really just the icing on the cake to the shit storm I have been enduring all month. I haven't been able to concentrate on anything because my mind has been trying to make sense of what's happened between Edward and I. I'm upset that he didn't trust me to understand and accept his sexuality, and instead, he kept it hidden for years. I'm even _more_ upset that he was comfortable enough to confide in Emmett. Of course, I trust Emmett to be sensitive to all the complexities of what sharing that kind of information entails. He's not close-minded like most of my kin, and I know that he wouldn't judge or spread gossip about Edward.

But, out of our little group, Edward and I were closest. Why not tell me? Why keep _me_ in the dark?

I'm upset with Alice for playing her little mind games, and for wriggling her seductive way into my brain, and nudging me none-to-gently in Edward's direction. And even _she_ knew about Edward's orientation, and said that I was stupid for _not_ knowing! Despite the fact that I asked her to lose my number, she's called me several times since that day, leaving me voice mails and sending text messages. Even though I let all her calls go to voice mail, because I had no intentions of talking to her, I still, out of morbid curiosity, check them. I thoroughly expected her to beg me to not be mad at her, to not give up on whatever non-relationship that she and I had. I was surprised, and my ego was bruised, to be proven wrong when all of her messages concerned Edward.

_Talk to Edward._

_He thinks you hate him._

_Stop acting as if nothing happened._

They confused me because, for the first several days since the incident between the three of us, it was _he_ that acted as if nothing had happened. He was his normal, happy-go-lucky, nothing-can-get-to-me self. Of course, we all have our ups and downs, and that being the case, I wasn't surprised to find him at the piano a couple of times, completely absorbed in the erratically beautiful music he creates while he's brooding. On top of all that, _he'd _been avoiding _me_; not the other way around. I had no way of knowing if it was because he felt awkward about our exchange, or if he assumed that I would automatically feel awkward, and that I'd be more comfortable with some space in order to reflect upon what occurred, so I could put it behind us.

That was all a crock of shit, though. I _did_ have a way of finding out why he seemed to be avoiding me. All I had to was ask.

Did I?

No.

Which brings me to the part I'm most upset over. I cannot put the incident behind me. My confusion over the whole thing has only grown since our brief discussion in Edward's bedroom, and began to spiral out of control the first time I masturbated to thoughts of him. The fact that I've continued doing it since then only frustrates me more.

I didn't lie to Mike that day in our kitchen about the fact that I wasn't into guys. I have always been attracted to women and had never once considered another option. I never once _wanted_ to consider another option. Given the small-mindedness of the majority of my family, it should have been in my nature to believe that homosexuality and bisexuality is wrong. And though I don't feel that way, I'm not naive enough to think that such a way of life doesn't sometimes feel like you've been fucked sideways by a cactus.

That being said, it both confuses and terrifies me that I've gotten off frequently, as of late, to thoughts of Edward: of what we did and what I fantasize about the two of us doing. The idea of being sexually intimate with him again arouses me almost instantaneously. I originally chalked up my eagerness during the basement incident to sexual frustration, and my jerk-off session just hours later as residual affects of the same. But I can't use that excuse for every time it's occurred since then.

I've found myself trying to rationalize my actions with the thought that since Edward and I were so close, it may just be natural to fantasize about us being closer. Last night, though, that thought was blown out of the water when I had a recurrence of a dream a dream that I originally had a few years ago the night of my high school graduation.

In the dream, I go to Edward's to show off the tattoo I'd just gotten. I was apparently still drunk as hell from the graduation party I'd attended prior to getting the ink. I all but take off my pants in my enthusiasm to flaunt my body art, and Edward shows more than just curious attention to the hip where I'd gotten the tattoo, suggestively touching me, and brushing his lips against my skin. It shocks me at how incredibly aroused I become at his touch, and my need to kiss him is switched into overdrive.

The first time I had that dream, I was mortified and vowed never to get that shit-faced again. It made me paranoid, thinking that it would be branded on my face in bold, red letters that I had a dream about getting touchy-feely with my best friend. I spoke of it to no one. Given recent developments, I shouldn't have been shocked that the dream resurfaced in my subconscious, and really, I'm not. I am, however, frightened about the fact that I can't ignore the significance of that dream.

I'm attracted to Edward.

After pulling my truck out onto the highway, I start drumming my fingers against the steering wheel, wondering if I would be making things better or worse if I discussed this with Edward. Would he feel weird if I were to admit how I felt? Would he be amused at my expense, thinking me nothing more than another notch on his metaphorical bedpost? Was I really the first person he had a thing for? If that's true, does he still have a thing for me?

Frantically trying to work out different scenarios in my head, my heart leaps in my chest at the fact that I am all too soon turning onto our street. I'm suddenly very nervous pulling into our driveway as I see Edward's car is already there. I had this tiny little hope that he wouldn't be home and I would have, at least, a few more minutes to go over my spiel. Deciding to stop being such a pussy, I park my truck and head for the house.

Inside, Jacob and Emmett are playing a video game in the living room; they shout "Hey, Jazz!" in unison, neither one of them taking their eyes off the TV screen as I enter. Despite the fact that they can't see me, I simply wave a hand in response as I head for the stairs. Not only am I not ready to have this conversation with Edward, but I now have a potential audience should things get really messed up. This could get down right painful.

Climbing the stairs, I start to second guess my decision and wonder if I should just do this some other time. When I reach the top landing, however, I hear grunts coming in rapid succession and distinct thuds coming from Edward's bedroom. One would think I would have learned my lesson about following my curiosity with what started this bizarre ball rolling, but I just can't ignore the pull to go to his room.

The grunts and the thuds grow louder as I get closer to my destination. When I arrive at his door, I pause, seeing that it's slightly ajar. I slowly push the door open, knowing full well that he isn't paying a lick of attention to me as I take in his sweating, strained form.

He is taking out his frustrations on Bob.

Where just moments before, I considered not having the conversation that needed to be had, seeing him like he is right now, I decide that I truly don't want to put it off. I desperately want to clear the air and do whatever we need to do to move forward. However, I can't bring myself to interrupt. Nor can I make myself leave. So I remain in his doorway.

And watch.

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**A/N Thanks for reading!**


	6. BOB

**A/B SM owns The Twilight Saga, it's characters and everything else. I merely own the laptop on which I wrote this. Thanks for Zigster for her awesomesauce beta mastery. *foozles***

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His grunts are growing more insistent and I see the muscles in his shoulders straining with the effort to maintain some semblance of control. Just moments later, that control slips and he growls before really working Bob over.

I wonder how much more Bob can take before he needs to be replaced? Edward has had him for several years, and it seems as though the beatings Bob has suffered at his hands and feet have only gotten increasingly worse.

Bob is actually B.O.B., or Edward's Body Opponent Bag. He's a life like mannequin in the form of a punching bag. Bob makes for realistic training sessions, or in Edward's case, total beat downs. Right about now, I'm grateful that he has Bob on which to unleash his vexations.

Edward is quite obviously pissed.

He still hasn't revealed that he knows I'm standing in the doorway watching him work. Aside from the fact that he is in his zone of fury, I also notice that he has a pair of ear buds in his ears. He can't even hear me.

He's dressed in a pair of black and white track pants paired with a black wife-beater. The pants are baggy but you can still make out the muscles in his legs with every twist of his hips and strike of his feet. The shirt, on the other hand, is practically painted on him. It leaves little to the imagination as I watch the play of the muscles in his back every time his fist collides with the fleshy surface of the mannequin. The black belt cinched around his waist sends a clear message: Don't fuck with me.

I spent the entire summer, following our freshman year of high school, in Texas on my grandparents' ranch. When I came home just before the start of my sophomore year, I was quite surprised to discover that Edward had started Tae Kwon Do training during my absence.

Watching him now, it's clear that he's a natural. He stopped formal training once he got his black belt, and just trained independently when the mood struck, which was often. In the past couple of years, he's started to drift from traditional Tae Kwon Do and began honing his kickboxing skills.

I was shocked by his sudden fascination with the art, because of the fit he threw when we took Karate many years ago. When the four of us were in elementary school, we were all enrolled in karate classes; our parents felt we could use the discipline. Edward fought tooth and nail to drop from the program because he had no interest in learning a contact sport of any kind. His passion lied in track and cross-country; he was an avid runner.

So to come home from my grandparents' place that summer to find that he had been taking Tae Kwon Do classes for a few weeks, to see that he excelled so quickly at a sport in which he previously had little interest was impressive. To see that he enjoyed it and became more confident in himself as a result, was inspiring.

When I asked Emmett what brought about Edward's change of heart, he simply said that Edward wanted to be able to defend himself, and that his new chiseled physique was definitely an added bonus. While I could understand his desire to get ripped, I didn't, however, understand his desire to formally learn a form of self-defense. Of course, no one should be without the knowledge of basic self-defense, but I didn't understand why Edward felt the need to have more than just a novice understanding, especially given his strong aversion to our grade school karate lessons. Besides that, Edward was a pretty popular guy; he never had a beef with anyone in school.

Watching him now, I can see that he uses his training to unleash his pent up aggression.

Poor Bob.

Edward delivers swift blows to the midsection of the mannequin, causing me to wince at the force. He follows the pummeling with a couple of roundhouse kicks to the shoulder. Stepping back a bit, he bounces on the balls of his feet, fists in a protective pose in front of his face, right before he drives in and delivers three quick right jabs followed by a fierce left hook to the face.

Bouncing back again, he drops his hands, shaking the tension out of his shoulders and arms. Standing briefly in place, he rolls his head about his shoulders, working out kinks in his neck. He then darts back in and launches into a series of spinning hook kicks; each one hitting its intended mark at the right side of Bob's head, and the force of each blow causes Bob's neck to nearly fold in half. With each kick, he lets out a breath in a punctuated hiss; much like a cobra when it strikes.

I know we need to talk, but I'm starting to doubt my timing as I remain standing in his doorway. Edward in Tae Kwon Do mode is not one to be messed with.

With one final kick to Bob's head, Edward wheels around to face me. Shock registers on his face as he steps back a little.

I'm speechless.

His chest is heaving and he's completely covered in sweat. The front of his shirt has a crescent of deeper black around the collar where sweat had been absorbed. His skin glistens and I can see droplets of perspiration clinging to the stubble on his jaw. The color of his hair now a dark brown and it clings to his scalp in messy, damp waves.

_Fuck_.

I, at first, mistakenly think I didn't mutter that word out loud. Naturally, I'm wrong.

_God, I've been wrong about so many things._

"See something you like, Jasper?"

His name falls off my lips in a gasp.

He scoffs before speaking. "Don't start this shit with me. I'm not falling for that again." He yanks out his ear buds and tosses them, along with his MP3 player, onto his bed.

I take a deep breath in an attempt to clear my thoughts. "Um…Edward. I…uh…I wanna talk to you."

"Oh, yeah? What do you wanna talk about?" He asks, stretching out the muscles in his triceps.

"My head has been a screwed up place to be lately. I've been so confused since what happened. I thought, at first, that it wouldn't mean anything, but then everything got so intense, and you held me down—"

"Are you saying that I took advantage of you? Cuz you know that's _bull_shit! I didn't force you to do anything, Jasper!"

"Edward, I know, that's not what I meant—"

"I'm not a fucking monster. I would _never_ force _anyone_ to do _anything."_

"I never said you were a monster. Just calm down, please," I beg him.

"Calm down. Right. Of course, this is all my fault. I should have realized that was what you thought, because you looked at me like I fucking _raped_ you!" His voice is growing shrill and panicky.

"Edward, please. I didn't mean…I…I don't know, man. I was shocked, that's all. Maybe we could just, um, I—"

"Don't you even start patronizing me. That is the _last _thing I need right now. You know what? Just…forget it," he says before turning around.

"Forget it? _Forget it?_ Edward, that's impossible. I can't forget it!"

"What exactly can't you forget?" he asks with a sardonic smirk on his face.

"None of it. How you touched me. How you kissed me. How you…" I let my voice trail off and I swallow hard.

He is directly in front of me in an instant, breathing against my neck. I can smell the salty musk of his sweat and I am nearly overcome by the sudden urge to lean my head down to taste his slick skin.

"How I what? How I made you say my name? How I made you come? How I made you scream for me?" The last question is asked directly in my ear in a hoarse whisper.

My whole body trembles at the sound of his voice and my jeans are now incredibly uncomfortable because of my raging erection.

Dropping my voice, I whisper, "I was about to say how you called me 'Love.' I could never forget that either, Edward."

He immediately draws back and looks me in the eye, his face reddening with embarrassment. After everything he just said to me, now he's embarrassed?

"That was just a slip of the tongue. If I'm not mistaken, there was plenty of that going on."

"That's bullshit, Masen, and you know it," I snap.

"So it's Masen, now? Well, fuck you, _Cullen_," he snaps right back.

Taking a deep breath, I try to deescalate my temper before speaking again.

"Who was the first person you had a thing for, Edward?" It's now or never.

His eyes grow as wide as saucers, and the flush of his cheeks turns a deep scarlet that creeps down his neck.

I figure that's all the answer I need.

"What does it matter to you?" He narrows his eyes and grits his teeth, accentuating the sharp angles of his jaw line.

"It matters a lot if it's something important to you, Edward. I'm not trying to be an asshole, I swear. Emmett told me that I've been in the dark about a lot of things, and I guess I'm just hoping you'll shed a little light on some of those things for me."

He snickers half-heartedly, looking at his bare feet.

"Another time, maybe. I'm not up for this discussion right now."

"Why not? I'm here for you, Edward. I want you to talk to me, please."

Edward shakes his head. "You know what? I can't understand why, just out of the blue, you wanna have a heart-to-heart. You certainly weren't interested these past few weeks. All of a sudden, now you declare that you're here for me? I guess things are different now that you have a hard on you can't get rid of." He runs his hands through his hair; his laugh is bitter and acerbic.

I'm pissed.

"When the hell haven't I been there for you, Edward? You are my best friend—when the _hell_ haven't I been there for you?" Scratch that. Now, I'm fucking furious.

"It doesn't matte. We can do this journey to enlightenment when _I_ feel like it. And right now, I don't feel like it."

Turning away from me, he starts pummeling Bob again and I lose it.

"Look at me, damn it!" I grab Edward by the shoulder to force him to face me.

That mistake nearly earns me a broken nose. Luckily for me, I dodge his left hook in just enough time to feel the wind of his swing blow past my ear.

Thinking quickly, I duck my head and throw my body against his rock hard stomach, taking him down. If Edward was shocked, I never knew it. I have him pinned for all of two seconds before he clasps his hands behind my back, arches his back into my body, and effectively rolls us over.

He has me pinned with his knees in my shoulders. Sitting upright, he looks down on me while breathing like he just completed a suicide sprint.

"Now what, asshole?" he hisses.

I consider briefly crying uncle. We've never gotten in a fight like this. I don't want this to get out of control.

I consider it all too briefly.

As soon as the thought leaves my mind, I lift my legs off the floor, rolling my spine and placing nearly all my weight on my shoulders before wrapping my ankles around his neck, jerking him backwards off me.

We both scramble to our feet in a defensive crouch. Just as Edward launches himself at me, slamming me into the wall, both Emmett and Jacob burst into the room. Jacob thrusts his tree trunk arms under Edward's and reaches behind Edward's neck to clasp his hands, locking him in a full nelson. With a burst of adrenaline, I throw myself at Edward right before Emmett wraps me in a reverse bear hug, pinning my arms to my sides.

"Cut the shit right now, little bro, and maybe I'll consider letting you go," Emmett whispers in my ear.

I collapse against my brother and allow him to support my weight; my anger is replaced by torment.

Now Edward will never let me in.

Looking across at Edward and Jacob, I see Jacob murmuring something in Edward's ear. Edward's eyes squeeze shut and suddenly snap open. His breathing begins to accelerate and he starts to emit rapid, panicky gasps.

_Shit. He_'_s having_ _a panic attack._

Several years ago, Edward started having trouble with anxiety. Panic attacks were a common occurrence, and he ended up taking a prescription medication for it before too long. He never wanted to discuss what triggered them, and would lash out at me if I tried to talk with him about it afterward. He would only explain the physical aspects of the attack itself: He'd break out in a sweat, he would have trouble breathing, his heartbeat would become erratic, and he would become wholeheartedly convinced that he was dying.

I haven't seen Edward's terrified visage in the throes of a panic attack in over two years, but I have no trouble recognizing it now. I could never help him during an attack. If I tried to talk to him or touch him, I would just make things worse. The only ones who could talk him down were Jacob or Emmett.

"Shit," Jacob mutters before releasing his hold on Edward.

Just after Edward falls to his knees on the floor, Jacob's on the floor with him, and mimicking the hold Emmett has on me. Leaning forward, he lets his long, ebony hair cascade over Edward's shoulder as he whispers in his ear. I can't hear what Jacob's saying, but I've seen it so many times, I know it by heart.

"Everything's okay, Edward. You're in a safe place surrounded by people who love you."

"I'm dying. Help me," Edward rasps.

"You're not dying. You're having a panic attack. Where are we right now?"

In between gasps, Edward answers, "We're in my bedroom."

"Who's with you?"

"Jacob, Emmett, Jasper." He chokes on my name and I nearly come undone trying to get out of Emmett's grasp.

Just then, Emmett growls in my ear. "You know better, Jazz. Just let it pass."

"Name all the Seven Dwarfs for me," Jacob whispers

"Sleepy. Sneezy. Dopey. Doc. Happy. Bashful. Grumpy."

His breathing is starting to settle slightly. We've discovered that after assuring Edward that he's in a safe place, the most effective way to ease him out of a panic attack is to have him focus on his surroundings, and then on mundane, trivial things.

"What's the sqaure root of pi?"

"1.7725_._"

"Now give me the real answer, genius."

Edward takes a shuddering breath before responding. He appears to have calmed down significantly because he is now smiling.

"1.7 7 2 4 5 3 8 5 0 9 0 5 5 1 6 0 2 7 2 9 8 1 6 7 4 8 3 3 1 4. How's that, fucker?"

"Perfect. How are you feeling?" Jacob asks.

"I'm feeling okay now, I think. Thank you."

"Good, because now I don't have a problem telling you that you need to get your sweaty ass in the shower. You smell like a truck load of pterodactyl shit."

"Go fuck yourself, Jake."

Jacob laughs and releases Edward from his arms, allowing him to sit back on his heels with his hands in his lap.

That was the fastest I've ever seen Edward come down from an attack. Jacob quickly became a pro at calming him down, and even though he's been out of practice, he still has the magic touch.

Just then Emmett asks me, "If I let you go, do you promise to play nice?"

"I'm fine, Emmett, just let go of me."

As he lets me go, my first instinct is to fall on the floor in a heap. Instead, I just stand there like an idiot with my hands in my pockets. We're all virtually motionless as we catch our breaths and continue to calm down. The silence is excruciating, and I want so badly to say something, but the words won't come.

Emmett is the first to speak as he awkwardly announces, "Well, I have some schoolwork to do. You guys gonna be okay?"

Edward and I both nod in response.

Jacob pipes up next, seemingly grateful to now have an out. "I've got a hot date with Renesmee tonight. She and her cousin wanna hit that new club downtown. I gotta go hop in the shower."

Again, Edward and I nod.

With the closing of the door, we're alone again.

What's that saying about the tension being so thick you can cut it with a knife? Well, this situation could use a fucking chainsaw.

Chancing a step forward in Edward's direction, I pray that I don't set him off in some way. He glances up at me and slowly stands up.

_Okay, this is progress._

Taking another step forward, and seeing no resistance from him, I take another, followed by another. Finally I'm standing nearly nose to nose with him.

"Edward, I'm sorry. I never meant for this to go down like it did. Please believe me when I say that I am here for you. You're my best friend, and I would do anything for you."

After a very pregnant pause, he looks at me, and clears his throat. "Anything, Jasper?"

I release a quivering breath before nodding in response.

Edward tilts his head and his lips part in invitation. I'm now breathing heavily through my mouth and my head is spinning.

_He wants this, too._

"Edward," I whisper before gently nuzzling his cheek.

"Damn it, Jazz. Tell me you want this as much as I do—" I swallow his last word with a kiss, and his groan is desperate against my mouth. What begins as a gentle caress of our lips turns into a—I don't know what you'd call it. All I know is that my skin is buzzing with what I am now recognizing as his electric current, and that the taste of sweaty, spent Edward is so delicious.

_How could I have been so blind for so long?_

Edward gently grasps my arms just below my shoulders and I reach up to cup his face. Tilting my head to gain better access inside his mouth, I practically assault the velvet surfaces with my tongue ring. He whimpers against me and I can feel him tremble. Pulling back from me he whispers, "Jasper, I'm…please don't…God I…" I feel his body begin to convulse. He's crying.

_Did I cause another panic attack? Way to go, fuckstick!_

He folds his arms around my ribs and buries his face in my shoulder. Wrapping one arm around his shoulder, and my other behind his head, I hold him tightly to me. The force of his sobs radiate through to my body, and I tighten my grip, afraid to let him go.

"I'm so sorry," he whimpers.

"Edward, there's nothing you need to be sorry for. I'm the one who's sorry."

I feel him shake his head against me.

"Everything's okay, Edward."

"I know."

_Okay, so he's not having a panic attack. I can handle this._

"Just promise me that you'll be honest with me. I'm here for you, I swear it. Whatever this is, we can figure it out together, okay?"

He nods against my shoulder and kisses my neck.

Just as I am about to return the sentiment, there's a knock at the door.

"Yoohoo! Ya gonna let me in, sweetie?"

_It's Bella. What is _she _doing here?_

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**A/N Link to video that inspired TaeKwonDoward can be found on my profile. Thanks for reading :)**


	7. Bella

**A/N SM owns The Twilight Saga, its characters and everything else. I merely own the laptop on which I wrote this. Thank you forever, Zigster for being the awesomesauce beta extraordinaire! And thank y'all for reading and reviewing!

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"Oh, God. Bella," Edward whispers against me. Pulling away, he scrubs his face with his hands. "I didn't think she was coming until tomorrow."

"What do you wanna do?" I ask, keeping my voice low.

"Um…" he says before squeezing his eyes shut and shaking his head.

Keeping his eyes shut, he raises his voice to speak. "I'm sorry, Bella. You're gonna have to give me a little bit. I have to take a shower. Mind waiting for me downstairs?"

"Sure thing, sugar!"

My heart tightens to hear that sentiment. What's going to happen now? Even though it's been an erratic relationship, Edward and Bella have always been addicted to each other. She was like his drug of choice, and he always dropped everything to have his fix. Why they hadn't settled down and solidified their relationship is beyond me. Now that she's here, and with what took place between Edward and I, I'm not sure if I would be able to handle that.

_What are his intentions now?_

I listen to her retreating footsteps and chance a look at Edward. He still has his eyes squeezed shut like he's fighting off a headache. This analogy is made even more plausible by him pinching the bridge of his nose.

It dawns on me that Bella didn't just barge in or make some kind of comment about joining him in the shower. That's slightly out of character for her. I have to wonder if Edward noticed that, too.

Edward runs his fingers through his hair, causing the damp tresses to shoot off his head at odd angles. Finally he opens his eyes to look at me. That lopsided grin of his lights up his face and I can't help but smile back.

"Everything okay, man?"

His grin grows larger and I see the devil dance in his eyes for a brief moment before he pushes me against the door.

_Oh, hell yes. I can _so _get used to this._

Sealing my mouth with his, he immediately slips his tongue across the quivering flesh of my lips. Greedily, I open my mouth, granting him entry, and he grasps my head in his hands, holding me flush against him as I make fists in his sweat-soaked shirt. For several delicious moments we savor the depths of each other's mouths, the air filled with soft sounds of the parting suction of our kisses and the wet slick of our tongues.

Pulling back, he begins assaulting my neck with his lips and teeth before slipping his hands beneath my t-shirt to push the hem up to my shoulders.

"Oh, God. Edward." The words escape my mouth in a heavy breath.

"Do you have any idea how good your skin tastes?" He follows the question with a swipe of his tongue across the hollow of my throat.

A knock at the door immediately clears the lustful haze that's clouding my vision.

_Mother_fucker_!_

"Jazz, you still in there?" Jacob asks.

"Um, yeah. What do you need?" Thankfully he doesn't bother trying to open the door.

"Everyone's cool?"

"Fine and, uh, dandy. Thanks!"

I can't think. Edward is currently distracting me. He has abandoned my neck for my…

_Oh. My. Word._

_Bring on the haze._

Edward's body shakes with a silent chuckle as he sucks one of my nipples past his teeth and gently nibbles the hardened nub. I bite back a whimper as I struggle to regain the ability to form a complete thought, and just maybe be able to indicate to Jacob that I have the mental capacity of an adult, as opposed to that of a three-year-old seeking instant gratification. Just as I open my mouth to speak, however, Edward's hands drift down my sides, gently tickling my ribs. It takes all I have to keep from writhing like a fricken worm against the door. That would most likely give Jacob reason to try to let himself in.

And just how would I explain the position we're in? Well, more specifically the position Edward is in, since he has silently dropped to his knees, his fingers dancing about the waistline of my jeans.

After popping the button above my fly, and folding back the denim, he kisses the spot of newly exposed flesh.

Warning bells are ringing in my head.

_Too much! Too much!_

This is going way too far, way too fucking quick.

Panicking, I throw my hands up, frantically waving them in the air in hopes of catching Edward's attention without attracting Jacob's. I'm successful in bringing Edward's focus to my face instead of the expanse of skin between my belly and my raging hard-on. That success is short-lived as he smirks before placing a hot, open-mouthed kiss on my tattoo. When I'm certain that my knees aren't going to give out on me, he makes my predicament all the worse by tracing the outline of my tattoo with his tongue.

"Holy _shit!_" I scream.

All at once, the doorknob is rattling, Jacob is trying to open the door, and Edward has collapsed on the floor in a heap of silent laughter with his knees up to his chest and his arms tightly wrapped around his middle. Just as the door begins to open, I slam my body back against it, effectively denying Jacob entry into the bedroom.

"Jazz, what the _hell? _What happened? You okay?" he yells before pushing on the door again.

"Charley horse, Jake. I'm good. Be out in a minute."

I hear Jacob release the doorknob and the door clicks shut once again. Edward now has his hands clasped over his mouth as he continues to all but convulse on the floor in his amusement.

"Ouch! Well, um, come find me when you're no longer suffering, then."

Huh. He gave up quicker than I thought he would.

_Did he see right through me? _

I listen to his departure momentarily before sliding down to the floor. I'm now eye-level with Edward, who has resorted to snorting, clearly still enjoying himself at my expense.

"I'm glad to see you're having such a good time."

Edward slides over to me, sitting by my side against the door.

Chuckling, he says, "Well, I _was_ having a good time."

I take a deep breath before releasing it in a long, resigned sigh.

"Edward," I whisper.

"Hmmm?" He has the back of his head against the door and his eyes are closed.

"I really think it would be a good idea if we just take this slow."

He turns to look at me, and a smile spreads across his face.

"Yeah, slow. I can do slow." His eyelids flutter closed. "But, can you?" His eyes open again to look at me as his smile broadens and he moistens his lips with his tongue.

I answer his question with a grin and a not so gentle punch to the shoulder.

"I'm being serious, jackass."

He laughs. "Okay, I gotcha. Totally serious now."

"This is all a hell of a lot for me to process."

"I understand completely. More than you know," he says before leaning his head on my shoulder.

"Well, I guess I better go find out what the hell Jacob wanted and you need to get your ass in the shower, and pray that he hadn't used all the hot water," I say, pulling myself into a standing position.

"Sounds like a plan." As he stands up beside me, I hear him chuckle again.

"What's so funny?"

"I was just thinking that once I get in the shower, I will most likely be entertaining some impure thoughts," he replies with a wink.

I blush—yes, I fucking _blush_—and shake my head as I move to open the door. Before I can open it completely, Edward presses his lips to my ear.

"You better button your pants, boy. What would everyone think seeing you coming out my room in such a state?" Before I can even think, he playfully swats my ass and darts out the door in front of me, trotting towards the bathroom.

I'm not sure if he was really referring to the undone button of my jeans or the fact that the zipper is barely containing my erection. Neither would look appropriate at this point, so I simply stand in the doorway of Edward's bedroom, and take a few deep breaths to calm myself down. Feeling confident that I can head downstairs without making it painfully obvious that I was very recently in a more than heightened state of arousal, I seek out Jacob to find out what the hell he wanted from me.

I head to the kitchen and find him eating. Again. I know he needs the extra calories to support his massive frame, but God damn! First pizza and now Captain Crunch—in a medium sized mixing bowl, no less—what happened to protein shakes?

"Need a rack of lamb to go with that meal, buddy?"

"Only if someone else is making it." He laughs. "So, is your leg okay, man?"

I have already forgotten that I lied about having a charley horse and am momentarily stunned.

"Um, yeah. Much better, thanks."

He raises his eyebrow and smirks. "So what were you doing to cause a cramp, Jazz?"

_Oh, he saw right through me, alright._

"I don't know. Breathing, blinking, metabolizing—take your pick. What matters is, it's gone now." I just want him to drop it already.

"Whatever, dude," he says, chuckling. "So, do you have plans tonight?"

_Right now, I really have no fricken clue._

"Not really. No."

"Well, you should come with us then. Renesmee and her cousin wanted to go to Midnight Sun tonight," he says right before inhaling another heaping spoonful of sugary cereal.

"Midnight Sun? Is that place even open? It looks like it's still under construction."

I've seen the place being advertised for weeks now, but it still looks totally unfinished. The ads all say that there'll be live music and whatnot. Regardless, all Jacob needs to hear is that there's a DJ and a dance floor, and his dork ass will be wanting to show off the second the doors open.

I'm really not in the mood for dancing tonight, but I am interested in hearing whatever local act would be playing. I love listening to live music, being a musician myself.

"Who's playing tonight? Any idea?" I ask Jacob.

"Can't remember the name of the band but I hear they've been known to cover a lot of Incubus."

_Sweet!_

"Count me in! Emmett going?"

"I don't see why he wouldn't. The girls will be here within the hour, and I figure we can all head down to Hale's for some grub first."

Hale's is a greasy-spoon, twenty-four hour joint that is immensely popular with the college students. They make some fuckawesomely huge burgers and various other artery clogging delicacies. Now I know for sure that Emmett will be joining us, because he has a thing for one of the waitresses. And by thing, I mean he's made it clear that he wants to bend her over the first available waist-high surface and fuck her stupid.

Rosalie Hale is the owner's daughter and has worked there since she was legally old enough to do so. I would be lying if I said she wasn't attractive. She's a leggy, curvy blond with a rocking body, and the most acidic, "Fuck you" attitude that a woman could possess. So naturally, Emmett wants to marry her and make her have his meat head babies.

"Do you think Edward would want to go?" Jacob asks.

_Would he? How is that gonna work? Would we go together? Did I want us to go together? What about Bella?_

"He's in the shower at the moment. When he gets out I'll ask him."

Jacob merely nods as he wolfs down the rest of his cereal. After wiping his mouth and putting the bowl in the sink, he heads downstairs to the basement without another word.

I turn back towards the stairs and almost run into Bella as she's emerging from the downstairs bathroom. She doesn't look like herself. She looks tired, her eyes lack their normal twinkle, and she's more pale than usual. She's always been more on the pasty side than most, but right now, her pallor is borderline severe. She's wearing a layered tank top and yoga pants, and has her hair up in a sloppy ponytail. In a word, she looks shitty. Definitely not the norm.

"Hey, Bella. You feeling alright?" I reach out and touch her slumped shoulder. She offers me a tired smile.

"Just a little under the weather and I'm tired from the drive. I planned on coming tomorrow, but I was just outside of Bowie when I called Edward earlier. I was just so sick of driving that I didn't wanna stop for the night since I was only a few hours away."

Regarding her tired form, I grow more concerned. She really doesn't look well.

"Bella, you look like hell. Do you need a drink or something?"

She holds up a water bottle.

"You really should sit or lie down, or something, hon'. You're starting to worry me."

"I'm fine, really, Jasper," she replies with a weak smile. An instant later, she falls against me.

"Whoa, uh, okay. Bella? I'm gonna bring you to the living room so you can lay on the couch."

She shakes her head.

"Right. I guess, um, a bed would be more comfortable. How 'bout I bring you upstairs and you can lay down for a bit on Edward's bed?"

She nods against my chest.

I realize now she's too weak to stand so I scoop her up in my arms, bridal style. Christ, she's tiny!

"Bella, have you lost weight? Do I need to call Dad?"

My Dad, Carlisle, is a doctor, and operates a clinic downtown. He's quite used to getting calls from all of us for various things. I know he wouldn't mind coming over to check on Bella if we asked him.

"That's not necessary, Jazz. I'll be fine. I haven't been feeling well and it was stupid of me to attempt the drive all by myself, let alone not stopping for the night. And besides, the weight loss is very common at first."

_At first for what?_

"Honey, I'm afraid you're not making much sense."

We're at Edward's bedroom door when I realize she has nodded off. I start to panic until I hear her snoring softly against my chest.

I lay her down on Edward's bed, set her water bottle on the bedside table, and cover her with a green throw blanket. I wonder if I should call Dad after all. Deciding to let Edward make that decision, I gently stoke her hair before standing up.

Yes, I'm worried about what Bella would mean in regards to whatever is going on between Edward and I, but knowing she's not feeling well bothers me. Over the past few years, to say that Edward has had a problem with mood swings would be like saying that the sun was a little on the warm side. Bella never failed to even him out when they were together. And since, in the past, I've never been able to reignite his spark once it's dimmed, I would always be grateful that she was capable. It would downright kill him if something was wrong with her.

Slinking out of the bedroom, I begin to make my way towards my own. I almost pass up the bathroom when I'm brought to a sudden halt.

The door is half open. Why the hell Edward would forget to shut the door while he was in the shower is beyond me. However, as I reach out to close it, Edward's voice drifts out with the steam.

Is he crying?

I poke my head just inside the door and realize I am not quite correct.

He's whimpering. And I'm pretty sure I just heard something that sounded an awful lot like "Jazz".

_Ho, boy._

I thought he was joking when he mentioned that he was going to be entertaining some impure thoughts in the shower. Okay, that's not entirely true. What better place for such entertaining was there? Really? But, did he actually intend for me to listen - or catch him? Now I can hear the distinct sounds of Edward rapidly pumping his erection, causing my own to stir back to life in my jeans.

Great, now I feel guilty. Guilty because just moments before I was—and, of course, I still am—concerned with Bella's physical state. Guilty because I'm listening in on what should be a private moment for Edward—or, at least, it's supposed to be, regardless of what his intentions may be. Last, but not least, I feel guilty for just eavesdropping in general.

After listening in on Edward and Mike earlier this month, and watching Edward beat the shit out of Bob without immediately making my presence known today, one would think I'm some kind of voyeur. Truly, I'm not, so I have no idea what's come over me lately. I'm also fairly sure this shit is gonna bite me in the ass before too long.

I'm about to remedy the situation by leaving, and really, I need to get my ass dressed if I plan on going anywhere tonight. Just before I do, I hear Edward turn off the water in the shower.

I never heard him finish.

_Why the hell does it matter? Start thinking with the head on your shoulders instead of the one in your pants!_

Before I even realize I'm doing it, I knock on the half open door.

"It's open!" Edward shouts.

_No shit, Sherlock._

"Edward, I just wanted to give you a heads up." I barely poke my head through the bathroom door.

"No need to be shy, Jasper. I'm decent."

I hesitate before stepping in and find him standing on the bathmat with a towel wrapped around his waist, barely dangling on his hips and covering what it should.

_Lord, help me._

To draw his attention away from my current state, I reply, "Since when?"

He chuckles before running his hands through his hair, shaking water off in all directions. "Yeah, I guess you're right."

He steps in front of the mirror and swipes the glass with his hand to clear his reflection.

"Don't even start, Jasper. It's my turn to clean the bathrooms this week; I think I am entitled to leave a few fingerprints."

"I wasn't going to say anything." My attention is certainly not on the streaks crisscrossing the mirror.

He examines the stubble on his face, turning his head to one side, then the other, before scratching his jaw.

"Ah, fuck it. I can get away with not shaving for one more day."

_Good, because I kinda like the scruff._

The thought shocks me a little because, a few weeks ago, my thoughts would have been in a completely different neighborhood than they are right now.

"So, what did you want to give me a heads up about?"

I shake my head a little to try and focus on something other than Edward's appearance. "Bella really isn't feeling well. She nearly fainted downstairs and I had to carry her up here. She's in your bed, sleeping."

He immediately drops his cocky demeanor and a look of concern consumes his face.

"Nearly fainted? Christ, is she alright?" he asks, and starts for the door before I can answer.

I continue to talk as he almost jogs to his bedroom.

"She said she was tired from the trip and hadn't been feeling well. She also mentioned that she lost some weight. Doesn't seem to be running a fever or anything but I offered to call Dad and she refused. I really don't know what's wrong."

Edward kneels beside the bed and feels first her forehead, then her cheek.

"She's flushed, but she's not hot."

"Flushed is an improvement. She was awfully pale when I brought her up here."

He nods in response before standing.

"Would you mind sitting with her a moment while I get dressed real quick? I'm worried. I've never seen her sick with anything other than a head cold."

"No problem, man." I sit on the floor beside the bed and watch her sleep as Edward steps into his walk-in closet to get dressed.

What seems like only seconds later, he emerges dressed in a pair of form-fitting black jeans and—my Spin Doctors t-shirt?

"Dude, you know how long I've been looking for that?" I ask him, keeping my voice low.

He winks before answering. "Shut the hell up, man. You know it looks better on me anyway."

_Am I about to argue? That would be a negative._

Just then, Bella begins to stir and our attention is immediately drawn to her as she starts to sit up. Edward kneels beside me by the bed and cups her face in his hands.

"Baby girl, what's wrong? What can I do? Should I call Dr. Cullen?"

She smiles weakly in response. "I already told Jasper that wouldn't be necessary. This is all normal, I promise. I just pushed myself a bit too far with the drive. Really, a doctor isn't gonna tell me something I don't already know."

_Oh shit. She's not fine. Oh, my God. What's wrong?_

"Jasper, I don't want to sound rude, but I really want to talk with Edward alone."

_OhmyGodOhmyGodOhmyGodOhmyGod._

"I can respect that, sweetie. But if you need me, I'll be just down the hall, alright?"

Before I stand up, I gently squeeze Edward's shoulder. He's thinking the same thing I am, I'm sure. He's gone green around the gills and I'm really pretty nervous about leaving him alone. This situation will not improve if he has another panic attack. He nods as if to answer my unasked question about him being okay with me leaving. I finally bring myself to leave the room and shut the door behind me.

If she's sick, really sick, this is gonna be fucking awful. She already knows something's wrong and it's not good. A list of terminal illnesses start running through my head, and visions of her in a hospital bed with various tubes connected to her, and to machines, and bags of fluids begin to overwhelm me. I can't even imagine what is going through Edward's head right now.

Truly terrified as to how this will affect him, and seriously concerned about Bella's condition, I make a liar out of myself and disrespect Bella's wishes to leave the two of them completely alone as I remain standing on the other side of the door. I hear Bella start to cry softly and Edward shushing her and whispering, "Bella it's okay. We'll make everything alright. We can take care of you, I promise. Please tell me what's wrong, baby."

Only minutes before, I thought to myself that the whole eavesdropping thing was going to come back and bite me in the ass. I swear, I'm a prophet, because the next three words that leave Bella's mouth prove me right.

"Edward, I'm pregnant."

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**A/N Thanks for reading! :)**


	8. Dessert Girl

**A/N SM owns The Twilight Saga, its characters and everything else. I merely own the laptop on which I wrote this. **

**PSA: The topic of designated drivers comes up in this chapter. If you're out drinking, or plan to travel after you've had a drink, please designate a sober driver. If your designated driver is taking you some place, pay for their meals, cover charges and soft drinks where applicable. It's the least you can do for them since they are making sure you, and others, are safe.**

**OK...on with the fic :)**

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Pregnant? Fucking _pregnant?_ How the hell can she be _pregnant?_

_Well, you see Jasper, when two people are attracted to each other, and things start to get hot and heavy, and someone _forgets a fucking condom...

I don't know whether I want to scream or just pound my fist into the door.

And really? Why does it matter? It's not like we're dating or…whatever. It's not like I'm the one who's about to be a father. It's not like he and I have shared anything truly special.

_Right, Jazz you just keep telling yourself that._

All this nonsense this month, worrying about how I felt about Edward, has all been for nothing. I'm not sure if I should be relieved or heartbroken to have it all go away with three simple words. So, instead, I'm simply pissed the hell off.

Walking down to my bedroom, I shut the door quietly, find the first available pillow and scream a string of obscenities into the stuffing.

"Fuckin' motherfucker, God damn stupid _shit!_"

To the innocent bystander, I probably sound like a muffled temper-tantrum-throwing-toddler with a foul mouth. Of course, it doesn't help matters that my enraged state causes my voice to jump at least half an octave.

I toss the pillow back onto the bed and rake my hands down my face.

_Pull yourself together, Jazz_. _Do you honestly think he's not experiencing the same thing right now? _

He knew that she was coming, but he had no idea that Bella was coming here with the purpose of springing this news on him. I'm sure if that were the case, then all the shit that went down just this afternoon would never had occurred. At least I hope it wouldn't have. I'd like to think he would be more responsible than that.

And speaking of responsible, why did this happen? A condom is necessary. Always. _Every time_. Surely he didn't think he was immune to getting a girl knocked-up. And, of course, nowadays a pregnancy is the smallest problem on the list of shit-that-could-go-wrong-when-you-fuck. If he didn't protect himself with her, did that mean he didn't protect himself _ever_? If that were the case, I am damn grateful this shit ended when it did. An STD would definitely throw a wrench in my future plans.

I decide I'm gonna take Edward's earlier advice and just forget it. All of it. Clean slate.

_But I don't think it's possible._

Falling across the bed on my back, I cover my face with my hands. I try to will my tears to remain unshed, but quickly realize it's an impossible feat. They slide past my fingers, down my cheeks to my ears, finally absorbing in my hair.

_Damn it, give it up already! Why the hell are you crying over him?_

Sitting up on my bed, I lean forward over my knees and gaze at my feet. I have no idea why I'm crying over him. I've done enough of that shit lately, and I can't understand why. Yes, I like the way he touched me. Yes, I enjoyed his kiss and his lips on my skin. And _fuck yes_, I _loved_ it when he pinned me on the basement floor beneath him and made me scream.

And was I really the first person he had a crush on? He never came out and said it, but I'd like to think I'm perceptive enough to gather _that_ much. Would that matter? And he called me "Love". I've never heard him use that term of endearment, ever. Not even with Bella. _Fucking Bella_. Does _that_ matter? No, it doesn't. It's not like he came out and told me he loved me. Clearly, he was embarrassed that he said even that. He even told me that it was a slip of the tongue. He never told anyone that he loved them. Not like _that_.

To hell with it. I'm twenty-one years old. I don't need this lovey-dovey you-complete-me bullshit right now anyway. I'm gonna go out with the boys, maybe hit on Renesmee's cousin a bit, if she's hot, throw back a shitload of beer, and listen to some good live music. Edward can stay home with Bella and play Baby-Daddy and figure his shit out. If he wants help, I'll give it. If he wants to talk about us, forget it. I'm done.

And tonight, I swear to God he will be the farthest thing from my mind.

Pawing through my closet, I look for something half-way decent to wear. I settle on a white, striped button-down shirt, and pull a sage colored vest over it. Deciding to go with the I-didn't-feel-like-going-all-out look, I roll up the sleeves of the shirt and leave the vest unbuttoned. I then pull on a pair of charcoal gray jeans and black cowboy boots, and head back to the bathroom to shave, brush my teeth, and figure out what the hell to do with my hair.

Twenty minutes later, my face is smooth, my teeth are brushed, and my hair won't do a damn thing I tell it to. It has always been nothing short of unruly, and no amount of gel or, heaven forbid, mousse will tame it. My undisciplined locks spring every which way and several strands hang in front of my eyes.

_Oh yeah. The emo cowboy look does wonders for you._

Deciding that it's a lost cause, I make my way back to the stairs, briefly stopping at the landing to listen for anything that would be coming from Edward's bedroom. The door actually stands open and after making the short walk down toward it, I see that the lights are off and the room is completely empty.

_Did they just leave?_

Slowly descending the stairs, I'm reluctant to see that they may actually be in the kitchen or somewhere else painfully public that will make this whole scenario that much more enjoyable. I'm relieved to only see Emmett and Jacob leaning back against the island in the kitchen. Emmett is checking his cell phone and Jacob's checking his watch.

"So what's the deal, y'all?" I try to keep my voice as nonchalant as possible.

"Renesmee and Dessert Girl should be here any minute. Then, if it's just us, we're gonna take the Trailblazer down to Hale's and finally eat," Jacob spouts.

"Okay, two things. Dessert Girl? And I thought you just ate, Jake." Incredible. He's still hungry?

"Fuck you, Jazz, I'm starving."

Emmett decides to put his two cents in. "He calls her Dessert Girl because her name means 'French cream-filled tart.'"

"Only if you put an E at the front of it. And that's not why I call her that, dumbass. She works in a dessert shop," Jacob scoffs.

I roll my eyes at the exchange before asking what I really wanna know.

_Do you really wanna know?_

_YES!_

"Any idea where Bella and Edward are? They're not upstairs."

Jacob's the one who answers.

"I invited them to come with us, but Bella declined and Edward said that he was just going to take her out for something to eat. He did mention that he wanted to talk with you when we got back tonight, though." He ends this statement with a raise of an eyebrow, silently asking me to elaborate.

I just answer with a shrug and a blasé, "Okay."

_Yeah, I bet he wants to talk with me_.

There's a knock at the front door, and Jacob all of a sudden turns into a giddy fricken girl as he all but skips to answer it.

_What the hell is wrong with him? Does Renesmee have him whipped already?_

Enter Renesmee. Her dark brown hair is pulled back into one of those intentionally messy buns and she's wearing what could only be described as a little black power dress that comes to about mid thigh. And speaking of thighs, her's were suddenly wrapped around Jacob's waist, making no bones about the fact that she wanted to, uh...bone him. Jacob voices no objection, but that's probably due in part to the fact that their mouths are otherwise occupied with each other.

I finally tear my eyes away from this scene, and take in the gal behind her, who I can only assume is Dessert Girl.

And holy hell, what a vision.

She's smirking at the spectacle that is Jacob and Renesmee with the fullest set of lips I've ever seen on a girl. She has shoulder-length, thick auburn hair with bangs that fall just in her eyes…and _fuck! _Those eyes! They're a cornflower blue that pop right the hell out of her head, and are rimmed with long, thick, black eyelashes. Across her cheeks and nose is the most adorable dusting of copper freckles. If that isn't enough, hearing Renesmee squeal at God knows what—far be it from me to pay attention at this point—Dessert Girl throws her head back and laughs with abandon, displaying dazzling teeth and—fuck me. I know I just caught a flash of stainless steel in that tongue.

Before I let my mind run off with visions of what those lips and that tongue are surely capable of, I take in the rest of her. She's wearing a simple gray tank top that allows a quick glimpse of the black bra she's wearing if she turns the right way. I, of course, now have to unabashedly gaze at her chest. It should be illegal for tits like that to be on such a petite gal. Her black lace and ruffle skirt comes to just above her knees and she's wearing a pair of thick, brushed, stainless steel bracelets on her wrist; surely to match the bolt in her down at her feet, I see she finished the whole ensemble off with a pair of black flip flops.

I'm proposing before the night is over.

I clear my throat and Jacob turns to look at me with eyes that are now glazed over.

"Uh, Jacob?" I then motion to both of the girls indicating that maybe an introduction might be proper at this point.

Renesmee giggles before releasing Jacob from the death grip of her thighs, and turns to smile at Emmett and I. Clearing his throat, Jacob finally begins introductions.

"Nessie, these are my roommates, Emmett," the two of them shake hands briefly and exchange how-do-you-dos, "and Jasper."

My parents raised me to believe that it was impolite to simply shake hands with a girl when you meet her; a lesson that Emmett clearly didn't learn. So, I take her hand gently in mine and kiss her knuckles. "Pleasure, ma'am."

Renesmee, or Nessie, merely smiles and turns her attention back to Jacob.

"And this is Nessie's cousin, Claire. Claire, meet Emmett and Jasper."

Emmett shakes her hand, and not giving her a second thought, heads for the door with Jacob and Nessie.

I, of course, give her the same treatment I gave Nessie with just a little more sugar. Taking her hand in mine, I press my lips firmly to her knuckles, lingering for just a bit. "Extreme pleasure, ma'am." I'm rewarded with a furious flush of her cheeks and a sweet, demure smile before I finally release her hand.

"A true southern gentleman, I see," she says with a wink.

I decide to pull out all the stops, and since it's been a while since I've come on this strongly to someone, I'm more than a bit nervous that she might deck me.

"I don't know about gentleman, ma'am. A true gentleman wouldn't be entertaining the thoughts that I am right now." There's so much gravel in my voice that I could pave a fucking driveway with it.

She takes in a quick breath and bites her bottom lip before responding; her voice almost as gritty as mine.

"On the contrary, Jasper. In my opinion, a true gentleman would do more than just entertain those thoughts."

_I've still got it._

She winks and grabs my hand, pulling us to the door.

"Now let's get going, sugar. I'm starving!" she announces.

Heading out to the car, I notice an orange hunk of junk sitting at the curb pretending to be a truck. The Florida license plate indicates that it's Bella's. I think my grandfather may have owned the very same vehicle when he was my age.

Truthfully, it looks to be a charming piece of machinery but I have to wonder what kind of shape it's in since she drove here all the way from Jacksonville. Regardless of the state of her transportation, she's most likely gonna be hanging around here for a while. No telling what's gonna happen now with this baby in the picture.

_Is she here for good?_

_Are they getting married?_

_Is she even gonna keep the baby?_

I really don't take her to be the kind of person to struggle with the idea of having an abortion. I mean, if she was considering it, would she have driven all this way to share the news with Edward?

Regardless of how everything ended with Bella's arrival, I still have to come to terms with the fact that I experienced certain things with a man that to date, I have only experienced with a woman. To say I'm confused about how this shit makes me feel would be like saying that Arnold Schwarzenegger was only a mildly humorous choice for the Governor of California. Could I see myself in an intimate relationship with another man? And why am I pondering this when I'm in the company of a beautiful, charismatic girl who really seems to like me?

Shit. I need to pay attention. Claire just asked me if I'd like to sit with her for the ride over to Hale's. I should probably answer.

"I wonder if that would be such a good idea. I mean, did you plan on leaving the vehicle with your virtue intact?"

She chuckles lightly before answering my question with a question. "What virtue?"

_Where has this little freak _been _all my life?_

Draping my arm across her shoulders, I watch as Emmett and Jacob flip a coin for designated driver. Last time we went out, the task fell on me, so I'm left out of the coin toss.

Jacob wins the toss, which means that Emmett gets the immense pleasure of being the sober one out of our bunch. This also means, that Emmett will be playing chauffeur and riding up front all by his lonesome as Claire and I slip to the back leaving Jacob and Nessie to settle in the middle row behind him.

"Shouldn't I have a hat or something for this job?" Emmett asks as he starts up the vehicle.

Jacob raises his chin before answering with a poor excuse for a British accent, "To Hale's good sir, and make it snappy! Greasy hamburgers and French fries await us."

"Here, here!" I shout.

Emmett turns his head to grin at us. "Fuck you guys. All of you."

Cackling ensues and we finally begin our journey towards increasingly bad cholesterol levels, annihilating brain cells, and rupturing ear drums.

All of us are engaged in mindless chit-chat during our ride to the diner. Despite my earlier comment, I'm on my best behavior, save for the fact that I have my arm draped around Claire and keep leaning in to inhale her scent. She smells like a fricken birthday cake. Taking one last whiff of her hair, I murmur, "You smell like sweet frosting, hon'." She says nothing, but the little smile and heated flush of her cheeks tells me all I need to hear.

_Yep, I've still got it._

We arrive at Hale's, finding it packed to near capacity, which is pretty typical for a Friday night. Miraculously, we find a circular booth in the back of the diner and squeeze in; there's barely enough room for all of us.

It's not long before Rosalie saunters over to take our orders, and glancing up from her pad, she sees Emmett giving her his biggest smile. If an eye-roll made a sound, you would hear the grinding force of Rosalie's from across the street.

"So what'll it be, boys?" she asks, rocking back on the heels of her tennis shoes. After taking in the rest of us in the booth, she adds, "Well, well, well. Someone's missing and there are two new additions."

Emmett decides it's his job to clarify. Either that or he's just eager for any bit of conversation he could draw out of Rosalie, since she's hardly forthcoming.

"Yeah, Edward bowed out tonight. Bella's in town."

Now it's my turn for an eye-roll. And damn it all if Claire doesn't catch it. She indicates as such by poking me in the ribs with her elbow and raising an eyebrow at me. I ignore it.

Rosalie notices my arm across the back of the vinyl seat around Claire's shoulders.

"And you aren't Alice," she points out to Claire with a smirk.

"Christ, Rose. I thought you only had it in for Emmett." Never a good idea to bring up another woman in this situation.

_Thanks a fucking lot, Rosalie._

Claire turns to me with a semi-concerned look on her face.

_Great, here we go._

"Do I have to worry about Alice?" she asks as Rosalie snickers.

_You're _so _not getting a tip outta me tonight._

"Seriously? Is she the type to carry a weapon on her person? Because I don't know if I..." her voice drifts off as she starts to rummage through her purse.

"Aha! Never mind, I have a screwdriver. I'm good."

I laugh out, "Did you just say you have a screwdriver in your purse?" Now everyone's eyes are on Claire.

"Yep! Phillip's head," she declares, pulling said screwdriver from her purse, and dangling it from her fingers.

"Why…?" I can't wait to hear this answer.

"Does it matter? Now I don't have to worry if this Alice chick goes all I'm-gonna-boil-your-pet-rabbit on us."

Raucous laughter erupts from everyone at the table as I lean in to give her a loud, smacking kiss on the cheek.

"I fucking love you, you know that?"

Rosalie, slightly miffed at her thwarted attempt to create some drama, begins to take our orders. While everyone else is telling Rosalie what they want, I lean over to assure Claire that she, indeed, has nothing to worry about with Alice.

"If anything, she'll forget all about _me_ and wanna take _you_ home."

To this, she raises an eyebrow.

"Is she as hot as this one?" she asks indicating Rosalie with a nod of her head.

Rosalie looks up from her pad at Claire.

"Not even fucking close," Emmett snorts.

Claire winks at her then turns to me. "Well, then _you_ don't have to worry about Alice either."

_Is Rosalie blushing?_

Snickers ensue and Rosalie sashays off to put in our orders.

During the course of our meal, I discover that Claire is a cake decorator at the dessert shop that she operates with her mother.

_Adoreable._

"Well, that explains why you smell like a slice of birthday cake," I say before leaning in and smelling her hair again.

_Delicious._

"That, or it could be the buttercream scented body spray."

_Good Lord, they bottle that shit? _

Our orders are out in record time, and it's not long before everyone's full to the point of bursting, and ready to head over to Midnight Sun. Just as Jake and I start counting out bills to pay the tab, Emmett is smacked in the head with a balled up piece of paper.

"What the fu…?" he starts to ask as he opens the ball of paper and begins to smooth it out.

His face breaks out in the goofiest fucking grin as he reads what's written on it. He turns to look toward the kitchen and I catch Rosalie throwing him a wink and ducking inside. Doing a little happy dance in his seat, he punches the air with his fist.

"_Score_! I finally got her number!"

"Congratu-fricken-lations, man. It's only taken you what? A year?" I ask, slapping him on the back.

He ignores me as he whips out his cell phone and programs her number into his contact list.

Jake and I toss enough bills on the table to pay for everyone's meals, Emmett's included since he's designated driver. I notice that Emmett's not paying attention because he's still lingering over his cell phone.

"What are you doing, bro?" I ask, looking over his shoulder.

"Mind your own business, punk!" he replies, pushing me away.

I watch his cell phone come to life as he receives a text. As Emmett reads it, his face lights up and he covers his mouth, uttering a muffled "Fuck me."

"Dude, I don't even wanna know," I say with a chuckle as Claire and I slide out of the booth.

We leave the diner and pile back into the Trailblazer to drive over to Midnight Sun. From there, the details are a bit fuzzy. Why? Apparently, I got totally shit-faced.

I remember hanging out with Claire at the downstairs bar waiting for the band to start their set. She and I nursed a couple of Amber Bocks and shot the breeze about trivial, getting-to-know-you kind of stuff. I remember asking for her ring size when she told me that she was a huge fan of VAST. I also remember her kicking my ass in a game of 8-ball, and giving Jake a run for his money with a round of darts. I'd had several Amber Bocks by that point and, according to sources, more than one Captain and Coke. I briefly remember the band playing a few Incubus tunes and Claire and I singing along. I also remember asking her why she was only drinking water when I offered to pay for her drinks.

Right now, I'm getting into a cab with her and heading back to the house. I can't wrap my mind around why we are leaving the rest of the group behind and why she wants to take a cab when Emmett is our designated driver.

"Don't you worry yourself, babe. I'm just gonna get you home and put you to bed."

"Put me to bed? Will you be joining me?" I raise my eyebrows suggestively to further my point.

"Jasper, I want you sober enough to remember such an occasion," she says with a snicker, leaning into me.

_Hell. I struck out tonight after all._

Pulling up to the curb outside of the house, my head nearly hits the ceiling as I feel Claire reach into my pocket.

_I guess she's changed her mind._

Sadly, this is not the case. She locates my wallet, hands a few bills to the driver and tells him to keep the change.

Turning to me, she winks. "Since you didn't get to pay for my drinks, I figured you wouldn't mind paying for the cab."

"I don't mind paying for anything, sweetie, just as long as you put my wallet right back where you found it." My voice is totally slurred at this point.

It takes a lot of effort to get me out of the cab and standing upright. Claire senses this, puts one of my arms around her shoulders, and supports some of my weight while we walk up to the house.

It's all I can do to remain standing, and poor Claire is doing her best to hold me up while trying to open the front door at the same time. As she struggles to turn the knob, the door is suddenly yanked open from the inside, and we nearly fall over the threshold. If Claire hadn't cut off her alcohol intake so early in the evening, I'm fairly certain we would have done just that.

Edward is standing before us wearing a pair of gray, drawstring sleep pants and a big ass smile.

This either just got a whole lot better, or a whole lot worse.

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**A/N Thank you for reading :)**


	9. Sobering

**A/N SM owns The Twilight Saga, its characters, and everything else. I merely own the laptop on which I wrote this. Thank you to Zigster for her awesome sauce beta skills as always :)

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"Uh oh," Edward says, chuckling as he gets on my other side to help Claire hold me up.

"Thanks, man. This one's no meatball, but he ain't no lightweight either!"

Somehow, we make it to the staircase without me falling on my face, and they all but toss me on my ass onto the bottom step.

"Have a little too much fun tonight, John Wayne?" By now, his chuckle has tapered off to a snicker.

"Fuck you, Edward," I slur.

"Edward?" Claire asks.

"Yeah, I'm sorry. I'm Edward. One of Sir-Drink-A-Lot's roommates," he says, extending his hand to her. Claire grasps his hand and gives it a firm shake.

"I'm Claire. And seeing you now explains a hell of a lot," she replies with a smirk.

Edward cocks his head to the side and flashes that crooked grin at her. I have to interrupt this shit.

"Oh, no you don't. Don't even think about trying to dazzle this one. I'll have to kick your ass."

Edward scoffs at me then turns back to Claire.

"Apparently, Jazz thinks I have a habit of dazzling people. I'm not sure if there's any truth to that."

_Fuck my life._

"Oh, I can definitely see the potential," she replies with a grin.

Potential? Does that mean she's not automatically drawn in? With the way I've been such a jackass over the course of our evening together, it would have been a sure thing that just the slightest smooth move out of Edward would have her wanting to jump in his bed in a goddamn heartbeat. Regardless, I know I'm not getting any tonight and all I want to do is go to bed and sleep.

"Come on, cowboy, let's get you to bed," Claire says, gently taking my arm to pull me up.

Edward's eyes dart back and forth between her and I while a look of concern crosses his face.

"Are you two…" He can't seem to finish the sentence.

I look at him with a crooked smirk of my own. I would kill to know what he's thinking right now, and I can only hope that his gut, and his heart, are as wrenched as mine have been since Bella arrived today.

Claire hesitates before answering, giving us each a cautious look. I know it's wrong of me to leave her on the spot like that, but all I can manage to do is look at her with a raised eyebrow, waiting for her to respond to Edward's incomplete question.

"Jasper had a little too much to drink, and rather than make everyone else head home early, I offered to get a cab to bring us back here. I planned to take Nessie's car back home, since I'm pretty sure she's gonna be spending the night here."

_God hates me. I'm pretty sure of it now._

Edward scratches the back of his head for a moment, seemingly unsatisfied with her answer. And far be it from me to speak up at this point. I'm pretty sure that whatever would come out of my mouth wouldn't help the situation anyway.

"Um, okay. Well, how much have _you_ had to drink tonight? Are you gonna be okay to drive home?" He asks.

"I only had two beers. Last one was going on two hours ago, so I'm fine."

"Okay then. Well, let's get drunk boy up to bed then, shall we?" he asks with his smile back in place. Edward turns around, giving his back to me, and hunkers down into a crouch.

"Okay, John Wayne. Hop on."

_No way is he gonna give me a piggy-back ride up the stairs._

"Dude, I'm not riding you up the stairs."

Edward snickers before replying. "Would you rather ride me somewhere else, then?"

Claire snorts and all I can do is mentally slap myself for leaving my comment wide open like that.

"Get on or I'll just sweep you off your feet and carry you up like a girl. You know I'm capable of doing it."

Not sure which option would be more embarrassing, I opt for the piggy-back ride. It takes me three fricken tries to successfully climb on his back and hold on.

He slowly stands up and shifts me around a bit to get comfortable. Of course, in doing so, my dick starts to respond in the most embarrassing way possible; swelling in my jeans and pressing right into Edward's back. Thankfully, he doesn't say anything about it, but I'm pretty sure he can feel it since he looks at me out of the corner of his eye, and his cheeks flush slightly.

His bare skin is so warm and soft that it's all I can do to not to bury my nose in the crook of his neck and inhale deeply. Unconsciously, however, my arms clasp the tiniest bit tighter around his shoulders and I sigh.

I can see Edward smile and bite his lip as he turns his head to look at me. "Shall we?"

Conceding, I press my face into his shoulder and nod. I mentally slap myself again because now I definitely can't help but indulge in breathing in his scent.

"I'm gonna head out then. Good night, you two!" Claire calls out.

My head snaps around. "Wait, don't go!"

Edward stiffens and stops mid step. After a moment, he smiles, and I know I'm fucked.

"Yeah. Don't go just yet, I'm sure I'm gonna need help getting this boy undressed."

_Oh, I don't fucking think so._

I can only pray that I drop my voice to a low enough whisper that she doesn't hear me.

"What are you trying to do?"

He snickers, causing his chest to vibrate under my hands, and I'm sure he can feel my heart pounding against his back.

"Okay then, boys. Let's get this show on the road," Claire replies, falling in step behind us up the stairs.

"Yes, let's," Edward says with a chuckle.

_Fuck. My. Life._

Once we get up to my room, Edward turns around at the edge of my bed and lowers me gently to the mattress. Claire heads over to my dresser without giving us a second look. Apparently, she is not on the same page as Edward, and I can't decide whether this is a good or bad thing.

"What do you wear to bed, Jasper? And where can I find it?" she asks.

"He sleeps in his boxers," Edward answers.

I mouth the words, _No, I don't!_ to him.

He mouths back, _You do now!_ with the most devious smile.

_Sweet Christ, I don't know if I can handle this tonight._

Lying on my back on the bed with my hips at the edge of the mattress, my feet dangle off the edge, touching the floor, and I feel Claire hop on the other side of the bed and crawl toward me.

"Sit up, cowboy. You shouldn't be lying flat on your back anyway with as much as you've had to drink."

Positioning herself behind me, she reaches her arms under my own and pulls me back toward her until the backs of my knees hit the edge of the mattress. I'm helpless to give her any assistance. My heart is pounding out of my chest and my stomach is churning.

_This really isn't a good idea._

She gently pulls me into a half sitting position with my head leaning against her shoulder and my arms supporting some of my weight. In this position, she's able to remove my vest and toss it to the side on the bed. After tugging the hem of my shirt out of my jeans, she starts to undo the buttons. I feel Edward pull my boots and socks off and my breath catches as he positions himself between my knees and starts to unbuckle my belt.

Upon hearing my reaction, Claire's hands cease movement and her breaths make a staccato rhythm in my ear.

Edward, however, hasn't stopped what he's doing. He has already successfully removed my belt, unbuttoned, and unzipped my jeans. He struggles trying to slide them off me. From my position, it's difficult for me to lift my hips and I start to tell him to forget about it and to just leave me alone to sleep in my jeans.

_This really isn't a good idea._

"Can you lift your hips, Jazz?" Edward asks.

"Not without sliding off the bed, fucker." Amazingly enough, I'm not slurring as badly as I was earlier. It's taking everything I possess to remain focused for God only knows what. All I want to do is sleep, but now, it's becoming more and more apparent that my dick has other plans.

"Well, I guess it's up to me then," he says with a smirk.

_This can't be good._

He grasps my hips and lifts my ass off the mattress before pulling me square against his groin. It should go without saying that his dick has other plans as well.

I'm fuckdrunk and trying to balance nearly all of my weight on my arms, on a mattress, with my crotch all but grinding into Edward's erection. I can see from now on that there will be no limit to how many times Jasper Cullen can put himself in awkward positions, literally and figuratively.

"Can you wrap your legs around my waist? I can probably get your jeans over your ass that way."

I roll my eyes at him. "Or I could just stand up, Edward."

"Now what fun would that be?"

Claire has still said nothing since Edward started unbuckling my jeans, nor have her hands moved from their place on my shirt. From my vantage point, I have no idea if she's stunned, disgusted, or excited. Or maybe she just might want to get home and get some sleep.

I decide, since I can't stand up with Edward holding me like this, and it's not likely he'll let me go without doing something to piss me off, I oblige his obviously horny whim, and wrap my legs around his waist, squeezing his hips with my thighs.

It's clear that he didn't expect me to be quite so enthusiastic as he furrows his brow and let's out a breath in a gush before swallowing hard. After a brief moment, he reaches his hands further underneath me and grabs my ass, instead of just my hips, and hitches me up slightly on his waist. Doing so causes me to rub up the length of his cock and forces my jeans and boxers to tug against the head of mine. My arms nearly give out on me as I gasp from the insanely erotic contact. I forget briefly that Claire is in the room until she resumes unbuttoning my shirt.

Finally, Edward moves to slide my jeans off my hips, and then pulls my legs from around his waist to lower me back onto the mattress. He then tugs my jeans off and tosses them in the hamper.

With my shirt now completely unbuttoned, Claire slides it slowly off my shoulders, and I alternate leaning to each side to free my hands. She tosses the shirt on the bed beside my vest.

"You okay, back there?" I ask her.

"Just fine, Jasper. And you?" she whispers against my ear. I tremble at the contact and nod in response.

_Is this really a good idea?_

"I don't think this would be such a good idea, y'all," Claire sighs.

Edward's head snaps up to look at her. "I'm sorry. Are you offended? I, uh…" he stammers.

Claire chuckles. "You didn't offend me, _trust me_. Under different circumstances, I would definitely be on board, but Jasper here is looking a bit green around the gills, and I doubt any sudden movements would do him any good."

Edward purses his lips and regards me. "You're probably right."

Claire clasps her arms around my chest before speaking low in my ear. "It is a shame, though, since he's so responsive. Even in this state."

Edward hops onto the bed beside me.

"He certainly is responsive. No doubt about that," he says, winking at me.

I finally understand what people mean when they say that guys think with their dicks. Not that I let mine make all my decisions for me, that's really not the case. However, right now, the head on my shoulders doesn't have any plans that involve what I'm about to say or do. I'm certain my dick is in complete control at the moment.

"Responsive, huh? I'll show you responsive."

The words have barely left my mouth when I grab the back of Edward's head and jerk him toward me for a kiss. He gasps then responds by pressing into me and grabbing the back of my head as well. Almost instantly, our lips part and my tongue plunges into his mouth causing him to groan. Angling my head to deepen our kiss, I tease Edward's tongue with my own.

_Fuck it. Fuck it all. _

Fuck Bella and her circumstances, fuck Edward becoming a father, and fuck wanting to sleep tonight. My stomach upset will pass, I'm sure, but there is no way I'm willing to get rid of my hard-on all by myself tonight.

"Mmmm, Edward," I hum, pulling away briefly. "I want you. Both of you." I say before grasping one of Claire's hands and kissing her palm before placing it on Edward's cheek.

Turning my head to look at her, I ask, "What do you say, sweetie?"

She nuzzles her face into my neck and her voice is barely above a whisper in my ear. "Jasper, do you really think this is a good idea?"

I answer her with a nip at her jaw and she reflexively turns her head towards me. Taking advantage, I capture her lips with mine. She whimpers against my mouth and I can't help but smile.

She pulls away to look at Edward, and I see that he's sucking his bottom lip into his mouth. He then leans over me and I watch him hesitate briefly before kissing Claire. I can see her tongue dart into his mouth and I hear his sharp intake of breath as he discovers that she and I have similar tastes in body art.

He chuckles against her and whispers, "What is it with you kids and your tongue rings?"

Edward reaches up with one hand and places it on my cheek, brushing his thumb against my lips. He continues to kiss Claire in front of me, and he gasps as I suck his thumb into my mouth, and press the ball bearing of my tongue ring into the pad earning a moan from Edward, and Claire giggles at his reaction.

_Wait. Something's not right. Oh, no._

All of a sudden, my stomach lurches, and I sit bolt upright, nearly pushing Edward off of the bed.

"Oh, God."

With superhuman speed, Edward grabs the wastebasket from under my desk and thrusts it into my waiting hands as I proceed to empty my stomach's contents. Claire sighs and rubs my back as I continue to embarrass myself further with a fit of dry heaves after the alcohol is gone.

"I won't even say it, sugar," she murmurs.

After several gasps for breath, I manage a hoarse, "Thank you." I am so not in the mood to be playing the I-Told-You-So game right now.

Satisfied that I can stand up without heaving again, I start to make my way toward the bathroom. I hear the padding of Edward's bare feet across the floor and the tell-tale sound of Claire's flip flops as they follow me down the hall.

_Do they think I'll get lost or something?_

I start to protest as Edward follows me into the bathroom, taking the wastebasket from me.

"I'll take care of this, Jazz. You do what you need to do."

"Dude, this is embarrassing."

"Cut the shit, man. You're my boy, and you've done the same for me."

I chance a glance at Claire leaning against the door frame.

"You gonna be alright, hon'?" she asks. I wholeheartedly expect her to be kinda pissy about the whole thing. I mean, talk about the ultimate, disgusting cockblock. I'm pleasantly surprised to see that she is actually genuinely concerned.

"I'll be fine," I tell her as I start brushing my teeth. After rinsing about a dozen times, I lean back against the sink and hang my head.

"I'm so sorry y'all. I know that was pretty shitty."

Edward slaps my back and Claire smiles sweetly.

"No worries, man. Happens to the best of us. Something like that is never timed well."

"You really should get some sleep, Jazz. You'll feel so much better," Claire adds.

I can only nod my head in response.

She reaches out to take my hand and leads me back to the bedroom.

I sit on the edge of the bed and she kisses the top of my head before giving me a surprisingly big hug for a girl with her frame.

"I already put my number in your cell. Call anytime, Jasper. I mean it, okay?"

Again, I can only nod in response to her inquiry.

Edward pokes his head in the doorway. "Come on, sweetie. I'll walk you to your car."

I make to stand up, and walk her to her car myself, but my whole body feels like a clumsy brick pile.

"Get under those covers and sleep, sugar. Remember to call me if you need me."

Edward comes forward and squeezes my shoulder before leaning in to whisper in my ear.

"I won't be long. I want to talk with you when I come back."

The two of them leave the room without further ceremony and I pull back the comforter and sheets on my bed to slip beneath the covers. Edward's little talk is gonna have to wait because within seconds, I'm in a deep slumber.

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**A/N Thank you for reading :)**


	10. Hangover

**A/N SM owns the Twilight Saga, its characters and everything else. I merely own the laptop on which I wrote this. Thanks go to Dark Absynthe, Touchstone67, and Zigster for betaing this chapter.

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I sit up in bed, squinting at the sunlight pouring in through my window. Tossing back the covers and standing, I'm fricken amazed at the total lack of hangover. No headache, no nausea, no clothes.

_Wait._

I'm in my boxers. I don't sleep in my boxers.

My mind flickers to an image of Edward mouthing the words, _You do, now!_

_Oh, shit_.

I start to recall bits and pieces of what took place before I fell asleep, but I can't wrap my mind around it.

Piggy-back ride. Claire and Edward undressing me. Kissing Edward. Kissing Claire. Edward kissing Claire.

_Shit. What kind of fucktard am I?_

On top of that, I recall Edward saying that he was coming back to my room to talk after he saw Claire to the door. I don't know if he tried to wake me up after that.

Truthfully, I don't even care.

I can't continue doing this. By entertaining foolish whims like last night, I'm only making it harder on myself. Bella needs Edward right now. Edward needs to grow the hell up. I need to move on and forget all of this ever happened.

And let's not forget Claire. Christ, is there gonna be any fixing that? She must think I'm a complete ass right now.

I make my way to the door, trying to scrub the sleep out of my eyes, and decide that at this point, a shower would be the best course of action. My senses are dulled, but I can imagine that I smell nothing like a basket of roses. That being the case, I shuffle my tired ass to the bathroom, and after tossing my boxers in the hamper, I climb into the shower. Making the water as hot as I can stand it, I lean my head against the tile wall beneath the spray and let the scalding water pound my shoulders and back.

As I begin to scrub the grime and self-loathing from my body, my thoughts drift back to last night.

My intent was to get Edward out of my system. I couldn't allow myself to get any more invested in him after the complications that Bella's arrival presented. If Edward wasn't going to make the decision to step up and be a man, and instead, continue to be the player that he was, then I was going to have to take myself out of the equation for him. I didn't want to come between the two of them and I _certainly _didn't want this to affect our friendship.

Besides, the easiest way to ruin a friendship is to turn it into something more, whether it's something simple like a one night stand, or something more complicated, like a full blown romantic relationship.

_We can't have that now, can we?_

Claire presented the perfect opportunity to at least take my mind off him. A hell of a lot of good it did when we had gotten home though. Meeting Edward at the door aggravated me at first, with the way he was all grins and chuckles, laughing at my socially inept state. But I was done for when he roped me into that fucking piggy-back ride.

To my chagrin, I start to grow hard at the thought. This will definitely not help matters.

Blatantly ignoring my problem, I turn off the water and step out of the shower.

I still can't make sense of what's happened between Edward and I. He certainly made it seem like he was into me, and had been for quite a while. However, I have to remind myself to take that bit of information with a grain of salt, given his promiscuous nature. In the course of a month, he's had intimate contact with Mike, me, Alice, Claire, and well, I would certainly hope he didn't try anything with Bella. I doubt he's that much of a slut.

Why am I over-thinking this shit? I just had a mindfuck of a month. Nothing's different. I'm still the same man. I'm putting my foot down now. Edward dazzled me, plain and simple. I've never been attracted to other men. I was just confused, that's all. Nothing's different.

I. Am. Not. Gay.

I'm gonna call Claire and see if she ever wants to see me again, and try to apologize for what happened last night. If she's not interested, I'll just move on. Then I'm gonna apologize to Edward and confess my lapse in judgment. And then he and I will both move on.

Drying off, I wrap the towel around my waist and stand in front of the mirror.

_What the…?_

There appears to be a sticker on the mirror. Leaning forward to get a closer look, I see that the sticker is a fucking rainbow. Who the hell would put this shit on the mirror? I try to pull it off but it's stuck. I then try to scratch it off with my nail, but it's like it's been super glued. Whatever. I need to get dressed, so I'm not going to worry about kiddy stickers on the fricken bathroom mirror.

I try to cinch my towel tighter, and suddenly, I'm brought back to reality, realizing that I still have a problem. Guess I'll have to take care of that before I get dressed. Upon leaving the bathroom, I literally slam into Edward in the hallway wearing a big smile on his face.

_How the hell can he be so fucking chipper?_

Oh yeah. That's right. I'm wearing nothing but a towel and sporting a semi. Fuck my life. If that's not bad enough, I'm dazzled all over again.

"I was just looking for you, Jazz. We need to talk."

I can't help but sigh as I try to remember the pep talk I just gave myself in the bathroom. Swallowing hard, I say the words that need to be said, "I just want to forget all of this ever happened."

_No I don't! I'm lying! I'm a goddamn liar! Call me on it, I fucking _dare _you!_

Edward staggers back a few steps, pain and confusion contorting his face.

"I don't understand, Jasper."

"What's there to understand? We're friends, Edward. That's it. Things got weird, but I'm past that." I can only hope my words have as much conviction as I want them to.

Edward's eyes dart all around the hallway, touching on everything but me as he processes this information.

"When you said you wanted to take this thing slow, exactly how slow were you thinking? 'Cause I thought that meant you didn't just want to jump into a physical relationship. Now, I'm starting to think you were just being, I don't know, polite? Well, you know I don't do polite, Jazz. I'd rather you just be up front with me instead of stringing me along." I can tell he's getting pissed. His chest is heaving and his nostrils are flaring.

Shit. I want him. What kind of man would that make me if I told him that right now? What kind of friend would that make me, knowing this shouldn't be going any further?

I have to end this conversation now. I'm still damp from my shower and my towel is clinging precariously to my hips. I'm afraid to move my hand to grasp it and keep it from slipping, but I'm sure in doing so, the movement would catch Edward's eye and bring his attention to my growing erection.

What has Edward done to me that makes it impossible for me to tame this fucking monster?

"Edward, there isn't a thing," I sigh, when really, I want to cry. "You and I have different priorities. I don't have time in my life for any complications."

"What the fuck is _that_ supposed to mean, Jasper?" he growls.

"It means that I don't want what happened between us to ruin close to two decades of friendship. It means that we need to step back and see what's really important. It means that you need to forget this shit ever happened."

_It would be so much easier if one of us could._

His head hangs for a moment before responding. Moments later, he raises his eyes to look at me, and I see the deep, green pools of bitter sorrow that quickly cloud over with vehement anger.

"What exactly does she do for you, Jazz? Does she make you hard as a rock with just a look? Did she offer to fuck you nine ways from Sunday once you got home? Or maybe she—"

"That's enough, Masen. We just met for Christ's sake, but I won't stand here and let you talk about her like she's just some sleazy piece of ass."

"Well, for just meeting her, you were pretty gung-ho to get her into bed last night. Or was that simply to get a rise out of me? You said you wanted me, Jasper. Did you want her more?"

I admit, deep down, at first, I wanted to make him green with envy. I'm kinda pissed at myself now that I did. I'm pissed because I used Claire like that and pissed that it worked, because I can see that it inflicted more damage than I'd wanted.

Still, I can't help the next two words that slip out of my mouth. "Jealous, Edward?"

Edward bites his bottom lip and looks up at the ceiling, as if momentarily lost in thought.

"I probably would be except for the fact that I'm sure she doesn't have quite the same effect on you that I do." He follows this statement with a lick of lips, his tongue barely slipping out of his mouth before moistening the full, pink flesh. If his intention was to make it vividly erotic, he nailed it.

He has me so twisted at this moment, I can't think of any other way to respond then to just tell him to go to hell and hope he leaves. I grasp the doorknob to my bedroom before doing just that. "Go to hell, Edward."

He steps back, momentarily stunned before narrowing his eyes. "You know what? You can fucking blow me, asshole!"

I had every intention of turning my back on him and entering my room to slam the door in his face. Instead, I snap.

Big mistake.

I grab the front of his t-shit in my fist and drag him close enough for me to feel his shocked breaths bathe my face. "You'd like that, wouldn't you, Edward? You're just pissed because you want my lips wrapped around your cock. You wanna see just how good my tongue feels against your skin, don't you?"

I then make a point to lick my lips in the same manner he did just moments before. Only, I make damned sure he sees my tongue ring when I do it. A low moan escapes his mouth, and I release him from my grip.

I have to put a closed door between us now, before I truly lose it. So I leave him standing there, bewildered, as I open the door into my room and slam it for effect before leaning against it and rubbing my eyes with the heels of my hands. When I go to step away from the door and make a move to get dressed, I hear Edward mutter the words that throw all my good intentions out the window.

"Fucking cock tease."

I spin back around and whip the door open to see him still standing there. The motion causes him to jump, as I'm pretty sure he hadn't intended for me to hear that damning comment.

Not even thinking, I grab him by the shirt again, yank him inside my bedroom, and shut the door. As if his eyes weren't big enough from shock, I shove him forcefully against the door and press the entire length of my body flush against his. His eyes grow to the size of saucers right before squeezing shut as I angle my hips to press my erection into his thigh.

I rest my cheek against his and growl in his ear. "I'm sorry. Did you just call me a cock tease? I have to say I resent that because I fancy myself a man who puts his money where his mouth is."

He takes a shuddering breath through his nose before releasing it through his mouth; his entire body shivering with the effort. After a few deep breaths, he finally finds his voice. "If that's the case, then why don't you prove it?"

I tighten the grip I have on his t-shirt before pulling back to look in his eyes. Raising an eyebrow, I challenge him to clarify his request. He voice grows firmer, more dominant.

"You heard me. Get on your fucking knees, Jasper. Prove it." His hands are already at his belt, hastily working the buckle open.

_To hell with it._

I swiftly drop to my knees, keeping my eyes locked on his as I grasp his hands and pull them away from his pants. I take over, popping the button above his fly and slowly drawing the zipper down. Edward's hands dart to his head as he grips handfuls of his own hair, and gazes down at me with hooded eyes.

As I maintain his gaze, I try to tell him without words that I want him to forget everything I said in the hall. I don't want to forget what happened between us. I do want him. He may belong to Bella, but I will gladly take whatever fraction of himself that he gives me. Even if it's just this.

Tugging harshly at his jeans, I pull them down until they are resting on his thighs. Following suit with his white boxer briefs, I tug them down just enough to free his straining cock. My hands slide up the taut skin of his chiseled belly underneath his t-shirt as I trace the deep "V" of his hips with my tongue. I make sure to press the ball bearing of my tongue ring into his flesh and, in turn, cause Edward to arch his body against my mouth and emit a sharp hiss.

Pulling back, I take in the sheer beauty that is this man's erection. It's standing proudly at attention, pointing toward his navel. An intricate network of veins work their way around the shaft, visibly straining to pump blood to keep him at full mast. Looking at the head of his glorious cock, I can see that Edward is just as twisted with sexual need as I am. It's a dark rose, nearly purple, with droplets of precum in small pearls surrounding the slit. Just below the head is a prominent frenulum begging to be licked.

And I am all too happy to oblige.

I can't recall ever feeling this much wanton desire for a woman. If this is what Edward wants, I'll give it to him for as long, and as often, as he wants it.

Gripping his hips with my hands, I drag the flat of my tongue up the entire length of his cock from the base to the head, planting a kiss on the silken skin of the glans, slick with his desire. I chance a look up at Edward to gauge his reaction. He has pulled up his t-shirt, exposing his sculpted abs. His other hand remains in his hair. His brow is furrowed, eyes are nearly shut, and his lips form a soft "O"; heavy breaths falling on me with every exhale.

I've _done this to him. He's this turned on because of _me_._

I give him my biggest fucking grin just before I suck the head of his cock into my mouth, swiping the slit with my tongue. After I release him with an audible pop, he gasps, "Oh _fuck_."

I smile once more before taking him in my mouth again. This time, I work to take in as much of his length as possible. My mouth deliberately descends towards the base until the head hits the back of my throat, making me gag. I come back up for a breath and try again to take in his entire length. When I feel the head hit the back of my throat again, I relax my muscles minutely, and slowly slide my lips to the base of his cock.

I can think of no other place I'd rather be right now than on my knees for him.

Edward reaches down with one hand to stroke my hair. "Fucking. Amazing." He whimpers my name as I slowly work my way back up his shaft, sucking hard enough to hollow my cheeks. With a swipe of my tongue across the head, I swallow his cock once again.

Both of his hands are in my hair now. I expect him to make fists in the wet strands, but instead, he caresses me reverently.

"Perfect. Absolutely beautiful, Jasper," he murmurs.

I can't believe I'm doing this.

And I'm _enjoying_ it.

I begin to bob my head in a brisk rhythm on his cock, and the sounds falling from his lips have officially brought my semi into a full blown hard on. Reaching down, I slip one hand beneath my towel, causing it to open and fall to the floor. Now I am kneeling naked before Edward, his dick in my mouth, and I'm stroking myself.

_This is so surreal._

Looking up at Edward, I see that he's smiling at me. Suddenly, he bites his bottom lip and lets go of my head with one hand, lowering it to my shoulder. Giving my shoulder a good shake he says, "Jasper. Wake up."

I halt my movements.

_Huh?_

"Wake up, Jazz. Hey!" He emphasizes the last word with a gentle pat to my cheek.

I squeeze my eyes shut for a moment and open them again.

I'm in bed, and Edward is shaking me awake. Glancing at my window, I see absolutely no sunlight. Confusion starts to set in until I look at my digital alarm clock on the bedside table. It tells me it's a few minutes shy of four in the morning.

_It was a dream._

I look down to see that I kicked the covers off and my hand is in my boxers.

_Shit, shit, _shit!

Quickly withdrawing my hand, I rub my eyes.

"Hey," I say, sleepily.

Edward snickers. "You okay? You were moaning and talking up a storm so I came in here to check on you and, well…" his voice trails off, thankfully.

_Totally embarrassing._

"I brought you something. Figured you might need it." He holds out a glass of water in one hand and a couple of ibuprofen in the other.

I sit up and immediately wish I hadn't.

"Holy shit! Sweet Jesus, my _head_!"

Leaning forward, I hold my head in my hands. Edward pries one of my hands from my head to put the pain tablets in it. I look at them begrudgingly, not sure if I'm going to be able to swallow, let alone keep them down. Finally relenting, I toss them in my mouth before taking the glass of water from Edward and chugging the contents.

"Easy there, you don't want to throw that up," Edward warns.

_I most certainly do not._

Edward is sitting on my bed next to me and I can't help but lean my head on his shoulder. He wraps an arm around me and gives me a gentle squeeze.

I snicker to myself as I remember a very similar situation that occurred when we were twelve years old.

"What's so funny?" Edward asks with a smile.

"Total flashback, dude." I look up at him and with my best drunk cartoonish voice, I say, "I love you, maaaan!"

Edward throws his head back and laughs so hard that his body shakes around me. I can't help but join in his laughter, recalling that incident nine years ago.

We were playing video games in my bedroom after swiping a six-pack of Coors from my parents. We thought we were so slick knocking back some beers, and playing Sonic the Hedgehog, until we realized why kids our age shouldn't be drinking. We got totally plastered, and Edward got sick as hell. All over my bathroom.

I freaked out trying to tend to him, and clean up the mess, so my parents wouldn't find out just what we'd been up to. It didn't matter though, since my parents had ESP, or some shit, and figured it out. Either that, or they were clued in by the fact that we were hungover at three on a Saturday afternoon, and reeked of beer.

After I finished cleaning up the mess, and Edward's stomach was officially empty, I sat on the cool tile floor of the bathroom with him and cradled his head in my lap. When he was finally able to catch a breath, he looked up to me and slurred, "I love you, maaaan."

"My dad tore my ass _up_ that evening. But, looking back, _shit_ that was funny!" Edward says, laughing.

"Yeah. I was grounded for a month. Quite thoroughly, too, since they emptied my room of everything but my bed and dresser."

I close my eyes and absently sink into Edward's half-embrace. I don't even realize what I'm doing until I feel Edward gently press his lips to the top of my head. At his display of affection, I feel a tight squeeze in my chest and that buzz of electricity again. Stifling a moan, I sit upright. I can't keep putting this off.

"Edward, we really should talk."

Edward immediately straightens up and turns to me. "You sure you wanna do this now? It's the middle of the night. I can wait till dawn if you want," he snickers.

"This can't wait any longer."

All traces of mirth are erased from Edward's face as he absorbs the seriousness of my statement.

"Okay."

"Edward, I am so sorry for all that's happened—"

"Shit, with Claire? You were drunk, Jasper. I, of all people, am not going to hold that against you—"

"Let me finish, please."

Edward's mouth shuts closed with an audible snap.

"I'm sorry about everything. I shouldn't have led you on. I got carried away several times and I shouldn't have. This can't continue, Edward. I'm too scared it may ruin our friendship, and I love you too much to want to risk that. On top of that, we both have plenty of things going on and I'm just not ready for something like this."

Edward shakes his head, confused. "Not ready for what? A relationship with another man? What difference does it make?"

"I meant what I said to Mike that day, Edward. I'm really not into guys. I just got carried away, that's all. I shouldn't have."

"Not into guys? Carried away? Jasper, you could have fooled me. Or did I just imagine your erection every time I touched you?" Now he's starting to get angry. "You can't tell me there's nothing there." The anger gives way to hurt.

"Edward, please. I've been beyond confused—"

"No, no. I get it. Forget it. Let's just forget it." He hops off the bed and makes his way to the door. Looking back at me, he lets his voice drop to just above a whisper, "Friends, right?"

"Of course. Always." God, I didn't want to hurt him like this. This is the last thing I want.

But this is what's best for all of us. Edward needs to get his head in the game for Bella. I need to let them get their shit together.

I need to forget the effect Edward has on me.

Flopping backwards onto the bed, I take several deep breaths. Tears start to form in my eyes and I try desperately to will them away.

Moments later, I hear Edward downstairs. He's at the piano, and that heartache of a song drifts to my ears.

Clutching my aching chest, I let the tears fall at will.

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**A/N Thank you for reading! :) **


	11. What Matters

**A/N SM owns the Twilight Saga, its characters and everything else. I merely own the laptop on which I wrote this. Thanks go to Dark Absynthe, Touchstone67, and Zigster for betaing this chapter.**

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I don't know how long I lie awake in bed after Edward leaves. Long enough for the tears to dry and for the sun to show itself, apparently. I really want to sleep, but my mind won't let me.

I feel guilty about what occurred between Edward and I. Not just because of our most recent exchange, but for everything that's happened since last week. I shouldn't have led him on. What the fuck is wrong with me?

And now, I'm more confused than ever. With Bella and her baby in the picture, why would he want to pursue something with me? Christ, for all I knew, she was right down the hall when Edward, Claire, and I were messing around. How twisted is that?

_Quite twisted._

Apparently, my mind grants me a shred of mercy. I must have fallen back to sleep because the next thing I know, Emmett is shaking me awake.

"Dude. It's five minutes till ten. Jake and Nessie are hitting up McDonald's before they stop serving breakfast. Want something?"

I blink a few times, and looking at Emmett's smiling mug, I can't help but smile back.

"Mmmm, yeah. I need a McSkillet Burrito."

The words are no sooner out of my mouth when my stomach turns.

"Uhhh, maybe just a couple of hash browns."

This earns another turn from my stomach.

"Never mind. I'm just gonna skip breakfast this morning," I say, grimacing.

Emmett laughs and ruffles my hair.

"Have too much fun last night, little bro?"

"You could say that," I grumble.

"Time to get up, either way. I'm sure you've got shit to do," he says, snickering, before leaving my room.

I flop back onto the mattress with a groan because I _so_ don't want to get up. When I finally do, I rifle through my closet for something to wear and make my way toward the bathroom, only to run into Bella. Literally.

"Oh, my God. I'm so sorry, Jasper. I wasn't paying attention."

_Don't blame her. It's not her fault. Don't blame her. It's not her fault._

"That's okay, sweetie," I say with a weak smile. "How are you feeling?"

"Better, thank you." She does look better this morning.

Hugging her briefly with the arm that isn't carrying my stack of clothes, I quickly kiss the top of her head. I continue toward the bathroom before she stops me.

"Jasper, I was kinda hoping we could talk when you have a minute."

I inwardly groan and clench my eyes shut. All this talking isn't doing one bit of good. The _last _thing I want is a heart-to-heart with Bella. What the hell does she want with me?

I turn around slowly to face her. "About what?"

She bites her bottom lip and looks down at her bare feet. "About Edward."

_Will this shit not end?_

"Hold that thought, hon'. I need to shower and scrub this hangover out of my mouth, first." Without waiting for her answer, I turn on my heel and head for the bathroom.

Of course, I meet Jacob coming up the stairs. I don't even give him a chance to say anything. Holding up my hand, I say, "I don't care if a fucking volcano is erupting in the back yard. I'm taking a shower first."

I finally make it to the bathroom and slam the door. Doing so has brought my headache roaring back, and I double over in front of the sink.

"Can't a guy catch a fucking _break_?" I whimper against the counter.

After a few moments of groveling, I toss my clothes on the counter, strip off my boxers, answer the call of nature, and finally turn the hot water on in the shower. I moan at the blissful feeling of the nearly scalding water pounding my shoulders. Lowering my head, I let the water work my neck as well.

And just like every morning, my dick is standing at attention. Damn monster needs a lesson in timing. I ignore it and work some shampoo into a furious lather on my head, scrubbing out the smell of beer, cigarette smoke, and Lord knows what else. After rinsing, I grab my shower gel and washcloth to clean the grime off the rest of me. In the process, I actively avoid the monster at all costs.

The last thing I need is sexual release. I don't deserve it.

_And how do you expect to face Bella when you're done? You think she's gonna leave you alone?_

Fuck my life.

I fix a baleful look at my betraying erection and resignedly decide that I should just get rid of it. I squirt some shower gel into my hand and lean my head against the tile wall before giving my dick a few tentative strokes.

_Something quick…gotta make this quick._

I run through my mental catalog of erotic fantasies, blatantly ignoring the ones I've been entertaining with Edward as of late, and settle on Jessica Alba. Envisioning that little thing bouncing on my cock sends me over the edge like nothing else.

_I'm sitting with my back against the headboard as Jessica throws her head back and squeals my name. Her tits are bouncing just out of reach of my mouth…_

…and nothing. I'm going _soft._

What the _hell?_

No. This isn't happening.

_Jessica coos, "I love how your cock feels inside me, Jasper. Fuck me, harder!" I grip her hips and forcefully, repeatedly, thrust into her as she sinks her fingers into my shoulders and screams._

I am completely soft. How is this possible? Now I'm pissed.

Groaning at the irony, I shake my head and rinse off. At least my erection's gone.

I get out of the shower, towel off, and pull on my clothes. As I start brushing my teeth, there's a knock at the door. At this point I want to scream "What the fuck do you _want_?" Instead, with a mouthful of toothpaste, I grumble, "It's open."

I hang my head in defeat as Edward walks in. Looking up, I nearly spit out my toothpaste in laughter as I read his shirt. It's black and in giant white letters, it screams, "FREE HUGS". I'm laughing because I know that on the back of his shirt is a trophy surrounded by the words, "World Champion Slut Hugger".

With him smirking at my reflection, I resume brushing my teeth.

I nod in his direction, gesturing for him to say whatever he came in here to say. Instead, he rakes a hand through his hair and sidles up to the counter next to me, leaning his back against the edge.

Dragging his hand down his face, he sighs. "Jasper, can I ask you something, and have you answer me truthfully?"

I frown before I rinse my mouth out. After wiping out the sink, I turn to him, frown still in place.

"Haven't I been truthful with you up until now?"

_No._

"Yes or no, Jasper," he murmurs.

I throw my hands up, exasperated. "Fine. Yes, of course. I've been lying through my teeth up until now. Why don't we change things up a bit?"

Edward winces before continuing.

"What's going on?" He asks, gazing at the floor.

"Hell if I know, man. Can't we just move past all this shit? I told you, I've just been confused."

_He clearly has no idea what he's doing to me._

"Well, I would expect that. You're not the only one who's confused here. I mean, since that day with Mike and the basement, you've been sending out all kinds of mixed signals. Discovering Mike in bed with me freaked you out. Not an hour later, in the basement, you—"

"I know. I was there, Edward."

Edward scoffs and pulls his hand through his hair again. "Did I imagine all of that? I have a pretty vivid imagination, but that was out of the ballpark, even for me."

I swallow hard. I can't offer him an answer without looking like the liar that I am. _Why is he doing this to me?_

"And yesterday, in my room, you said you just wanted to take things slow. I agreed to that. I never imagined you were fucking placating me, damn it."

Looking off to the side, words that he shouldn't hear slip from my mouth. "I wasn't placating you."

He pushes off the counter and takes my face in his hands. "Then what happened? What did I do? What do I have to do, Jasper?"

My skin is buzzing at his touch, and my arms are itching to make their way around his waist and hug him so tight.

Resting his forehead on mine, his voice drops to a whisper. "Are you afraid of what people will think? I'm not looking to out you, I just need _you_. I can keep us from the world for as long as you want me to. Nobody has to know. This can stay between us. We can keep it a secret." His whispers are growing desperate and the need to wrap myself around him is almost too much.

"Edward, you shouldn't have to sell yourself short like that. You deserve a hell of a lot more than to just be someone's dirty little secret."

_And you owe it to Bella to be there for her one hundred percent._

"Jasper, I would lie down and fucking die for you. If hiding this part of me from the world until we're old and gray would make you happy, I'd do it in a heartbeat. No questions asked."

"What about Bella? Hmm? Doesn't she deserve more than that? When are you going to realize that there are bigger things out there than just you and me?"

Edward takes a couple steps back. Good. Now I can think straight.

"I'm confused, Jazz."

"What's there to be confused about? You may be quite content with having a secret affair with someone, but how do you think Bella would take that news?"

"Bella? We've been friends for years. She already knows how I feel about you. It doesn't bother her now; I doubt it will bother her down the road."

_How could this not bother her?_

"She and I are friends above all else. Things between us were casual, never serious. Aside from our friendship, there is nothing going on between her and I. Nothing."

At that precise moment, Bella passes in front of the open door. She offers us a weak smile and her hand darts to her belly. A new mother reflex, I'm sure.

That's all I need.

There may not be anything romantic between them now, but creating a life is far from nothing. I don't have the right to sully that. Edward certainly doesn't have that right. I shake my head at him and struggle to keep my anger in check.

"That, Edward," I say with a nod in Bella's direction, "is as far from nothing as you can get." Leaving the bathroom, I slide past Bella. After retrieving my wallet, keys, and cell phone from my bedroom, I race down the stairs and out of the house.

Cranking up my truck, I charge down the street. I make it three blocks before checking my rear view mirror and seeing that nobody has followed me.

_Good._

_Now what? Where the hell am I gonna go?_

It's not long before I encounter a busy intersection and have to stop at the red light.

Should I go to campus?

_And what do you expect to accomplish in this condition?_

A whole lot of nothing, apparently.

Glancing off to my left, I see a bakery with a display case full of cheerful cupcakes.

Fuck your cupcakes and your god damn sprinkles, too. Anything cheery at this point just pisses me the fuck off.

_Wait a second._

Is this the shop where Claire works?

I make up my mind to find out, and cut across the lanes to pull into one of several parking spaces outside the shop.

Only paying attention to the sign that indicates that the shop is open, I let myself in. I wince at the cheery little jingle of the bells indicating my entry and give the front of the shop a perfunctory glance.

The air is thick with the smell of vanilla, cake, coffee, and every sweet thing imaginable. I almost become lost in the smells barraging my senses when a woman's voice from behind the counter grabs my attention.

"Good morning, sir. Looking for something in particular?"

_Jackpot_.

I am looking into the eyes of a woman that could easily pass for Claire about twenty years down the road. Her dark hair is pulled back in a ponytail under a pink baseball cap and a matching pink apron covers her white t-shirt. The only differences I can see between her and Claire at the moment are the charming smile lines that surround her lips, and this woman's eyes are green instead of blue. She waves a hand, trying to get me to focus.

"Helloooooo?"

I shake my head, and grin before speaking. "I'm sorry, ma'am. You just remind me of someone I met recently. The resemblance is uncanny."

She smirks and says, "Since there are few people out there with this mug," she says, pointing to her face, "I'll take that to mean you've met my daughter."

Before I can even reply, the woman shouts over her shoulder, "Claire, get your butt up here. You've got a visitor."

I start to protest because it's not my intention to interrupt. I had only wanted to see if she worked here and if I could speak with her on her lunch break.

"Oh, stop it, doll face. It's not like we're hopping at the moment."

At that moment, Claire approaches the counter, her hair wrapped in a pink bandana instead of a baseball cap, and she is almost completely covered in what looks to be powdered sugar.

"Mama, we _need_ to replace that ancient mixer. It just vomited two pounds of 10X sugar on me—oh, my God! Jasper!" Her face lights up like a Christmas tree.

Without missing a beat, she hops up on the counter, swings her legs around and hops off the counter on my side. Throwing me for a loop, she launches herself at me, wrapping her arms around my neck and her legs around my waist.

She hugs me tight and mumbles into my neck, "How the hell are you? You feeling better?"

Stunned at her enthusiasm, I manage to squeak, "Yes?"

She finally releases me from her grasp and hops down to the floor. "What? What's wrong?"

I smile and shake my head before half-heartedly dusting some of the powdered sugar that rubbed off on me. "I was in the neighborhood and thought I'd stop by. Do you get a lunch break today?"

Shaking some of the excess sugar from her clothes, she says, "This is a family owned business. We are dead right now and my lunch break starts," she looks at a blank spot on her wrist, "now." She finishes her statement with a wink.

"Great, so…where you going?" I ask as she hops across the counter again.

"Getting some snacks. Meet me out back!" She calls over her shoulder.

I turn to her mother, "I'm sorry. I didn't get your name, ma'am."

"Just call me, 'Nana'. Everyone does," she says holding out her hand.

I take her hand, and gently kiss her knuckles. "Well, Nana, it was a pleasure meeting you."

"Likewise, doll face. Now get your butt out back before she eats all the lemon muffins she's swiping from the warmer."

"Yes, ma'am," I reply and head out the door.

Making my way around the back of the building, I see Claire setting up a pile of what must be the lemon muffins her mother was talking about, and a couple cans of orange soda on a patio table.

"Quite a spread you've got here, sweetie."

She sits down in one of the chairs at the table and tosses me a muffin and a wink, motioning for me to take the other chair.

I sit down across from her and unwrap my muffin. Holding it under my nose, I breathe in deep before taking a bite. Around a mouthful of lemon cake and streusel something-or-other I ask, "My God. Did you make these?"

"Yes. Did you come here to ask me about my muffins?"

I raise an eyebrow at her.

"Let me rephrase that," she says, chuckling.

"Don't worry about it. I actually wanted to make sure you were doing okay today and hoping that you didn't think that I was a complete ass."

She swallows a bite of her muffin before tossing the wrapper in the dumpster behind her.

"I'm doing great, and of course I don't think you're a complete ass." She wipes her hands off on her apron and scoots her chair closer to me. "So, you and Edward," she says with a smirk.

I groan before falling back in my chair.

"No, no, no! Jasper, look at me!" She scoots her chair even closer and grabs my shirt to pull me back up. When I finally look at her, she smiles and continues. "Do you have _any_ idea how hot it was to watch the two of you kiss? Seriously?" She emphasizes her last word with a tug on my shirt.

I'm floored. "You have got to be shitting me, sweetie."

"I shit you not, cowboy. That little visual kept me up for hours last night. Hours!" She finally releases my shirt and sits back in her chair. "Okay, got that out of my system."

"Christ, if a fucking kiss got you all hot and bothered, I'm not even gonna get into what happened in the basement a few weeks back," I joke.

"_What?_" She's grabbing my shirt again.

"Claire, calm down," I chuckle. "This is kind of a sensitive topic for me at the moment."

She sits back with a dramatic pout. "You may not spill now, but you will later. I'll make sure of it. So what's going on with you two? How long have y'all been together?"

I sigh and lean forward, hanging my head. Looking up, I see another lemon muffin dangling from Claire's fingers in front of my face. I take it with a smirk and decide that I might as well level with her.

"We're not together. We've been best friends for years and very recently, things changed and blew up in my face."

"Does it need fixing?"

"I don't know if I can fix it. We sort of had a spat before I left the house earlier. I don't know where to go from here."

"I can be objective if you want to tell me about it."

I look at her with a raised eyebrow.

"I promise to keep my pervy thoughts to myself," she swears with a wink.

Four and a half muffins, and two cans of orange soda later, I have managed to unravel the entire series of events for her, up to and including the spat with Edward in the bathroom this morning.

"Wooooow. Pretty heavy stuff, huh?"

I scoff. "You're telling me?"

Claire screws up her mouth in thought. "So, Bella's pregnant and just shows up out of the blue. Is she planning on staying here?"

"I have no fucking clue."

"Well, I can understand Edward not coming out and saying something about it to you. If he's any kind of friend to her, he will probably wait until she's okay with people knowing about the pregnancy and spill the beans later. I don't think he's deliberately trying to keep that from you. He must know that you'd find out sooner or later."

"True, but that doesn't explain why he wants to start something with me knowing he's gonna be a father. That kinda complicates things."

"Well, that indicates to me that he's not planning to marry her. Nobody could be that much in denial. It's very possible that he was telling the truth when he said there's nothing romantic going on between them. It's not just romance that makes babies, unfortunately."

I simply nod. That's certainly true.

"Does he really strike you as the type to shirk a responsibility of this magnitude?"

"He's generally pretty responsible. Aside from getting a girl knocked up, I guess," I chuckle.

"Fair enough. That being said, do you think that for a man to be a good father he has to be romantically involved with the mother of his child?" she asks.

"I guess not."

"Welcome to the twenty first century, cowboy. Families aren't all peaches and cream these days."

Well isn't _that_ the truth?

"Would you ever be romantically involved with a woman that was a single mother?" she asks.

"I never really thought about it, but I don't think I would hold that against her, so I guess it's possible."

"So, would this really be that different?"

_Would it?_

"I see your point."

With a sigh, I continue. "It's not just Bella, though. I've never once considered having a relationship with another man. Edward has totally screwed things up in my head now and I can't figure out which end is up anymore."

Claire takes another bite of her muffin and pauses before responding. "You're attracted to him?"

Closing my eyes, I picture Edward's green eyes gleaming with laughter and that cock-eyed, dimpled smirk. I nod my head in response to her question.

"Look at me, Jasper," she says, tipping my chin with one of her fingers. "There's nothing wrong with that. If someone says there is, then _fuck _'_em_."

_Shit, I love this girl._

"Maybe what you should do is go home, and apologize for snapping at Edward. You have to take into account that he doesn't know you're aware of Bella's condition. Then you need to tell him that you need a little time to sort things out before anything else happens between you two. If he objects to that, then you should be the one to give him some space. He basically got rejected after baring his soul to you, and I can tell you from experience that fucking hurts."

"Yes, Professor," I say with a smirk.

"And remember, you will give me details eventually. None of this, 'things got out of hand physically in the basement' bullshit, ya got me?" She has the most evil grin in place.

"Thank you, Claire. For everything," I say standing up.

"Any time, cowboy," she says, wrapping me in her arms for a hug.

I squeeze her tight and after a couple moments, release her.

I almost start to walk away before I remember something. "When you met Edward last night, you said that meeting him explained a lot. Or something to that effect anyway," I add, shaking my head.

Claire chuckles before responding. "Every time someone mentioned Edward's name, I could hear you mutter under your breath 'Fucking Edward.'"

"Are you serious?" Shit_, how drunk was I?_

"As a heart attack. _Every time_. I just figured he stole your girlfriend or something. Of course when we got back to your place…" she let her voice trail off.

"I get it. I'm sorry, really."

"Make it up to me with details, cowboy," she says with a wink before tossing the rest of the trash in the dumpster. With a wave, she heads back inside.

Walking back around to the front of the shop, I duck back inside.

"Nana?"

I see her at the counter, dangling a pink paper bag from her hands. Chuckling, I walk up to the counter and take out my wallet.

"Sweetheart, put your money away. She makes a shitload of these every day—we can afford to give away some. Just send your friends to Nana, doll face." With a wink, she hands me the bag.

"Thank you very much, ma'am. I truly appreciate it."

Not twenty minutes later, I'm pulling into the garage with a pink bag stuffed with Lord knows how many dozens of mini lemon muffins. Judging by the wrappers on the seat next to me, I've gone through five of them on the trip back to the house. Regarding the bag, I decide they might make a nice peace offering. One could hope, anyway.

I let myself into the house and see Jacob in the kitchen. His eyes nearly fall out of his head when he sees the bag I'm carrying.

"Oh, honey! What'd ya bring me?" he asks, reaching for the bag.

"The bag is mine, but I can share." I toss him a handful of muffins, hoping to keep his hands out of the bag. "Where's Edward?"

Jacob stops unwrapping a muffin to look up at me in surprise. "Actually, I think he's upstairs chewing Emmett's ear off. Everything okay?"

Before I can even answer, I see Bella tread lightly down the stairs.

"Hey, girl. Want a muffin? I'm sure there's one in here with your name on it," I joke as she breezes right by me.

"Thanks, but no thanks, Jazz." She doesn't even look at me as she heads for the door.

I start to go after her when I hear Emmett and Edward's hushed voices drift down the stairs. While I try to make out what they're saying, Edward suddenly appears at the landing, pulling on his black beanie.

"Conversation's over, Emmett. I'm done. Finished. _Finito_." He trots down the steps and stops right in front of me to adjust the beanie on his head. Looking at me with a smirk that's betrayed by the anger in his eyes, he repeats, "Done." He takes two steps towards the door and halts. Turning around, he comes back to me, and when I'm sure he's gonna say something, he merely tips the bag of muffins open, pokes a finger around to examine the contents, and then grabs a handful. He tosses a, "Thanks," over his shoulder and heads out the door.

Emmett bounds down the steps, and before he even hits the bottom step, he points a finger at me. "You. Basement. Now."

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**A/N If you're interested in seeing Edward's t-shirt, there is a link on my profile. Thank you for reading! :)**


	12. Speaking Up

**A/N SM owns the Twilight Saga, its characters and everything else. I merely own the laptop on which I wrote this. Thanks go to Dark Absynthe, Touchstone67, and of course, the awesomeness that is Zigster for betaing this chapter.**

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I set the bag on the counter, and it doesn't escape my notice that Jacob slowly draws it closer to himself, staking his claim.

I'm filled with dread with what's to come as I descend the staircase into the basement. I've had very few opportunities to see my brother angry, and I'm not ashamed to admit that I'm frightened when that anger is directed at me.

Seeing Emmett standing next to the sofa with his arms crossed over his chest, my blood runs cold.

"Would you mind telling me what has Edward so pissed that he's considering moving to Jacksonville?"

"Oh, god no…"

_No…no…no...NO!_

"Don't worry, he only said he was considering it. He's not sure if it would work, though, because of school. Now, what the hell is going on, Jasper? I'm your brother; I shouldn't have to drag shit out of you. If something was wrong, why couldn't you come to me?"

"It's…complicated, Emmett."

"I'm a god damned engineering major, Jazz. I'm sure I can keep up."

Plopping onto the sofa, I bury my face in my hands, and for the second time today, I spill my guts. They say that unloading your burdens is supposed to make them easier to carry. I have discovered today that unloading them twice just makes them feel twice as heavy.

At the end of my tale, Emmett is at my side with a massive arm draped across my shoulders.

"Fuck, Jazz. Edward mentioned nothing about the baby. _Shit!_"

"Please, keep that to yourself, Emmett."

He just nods, looking deep in thought.

"So, what now? I mean, you're not gonna sit there and tell me you don't have feelings for him." He follows the statement with an elbow to my ribs.

"Funny, Emmett. Truly. I don't know. It might be best to just let things boil over for a little while. We both need some space, I guess."

"While that may be true, I don't think you should let it go for so long where you act like there's no such thing as the pink elephant in the room shaking it's trunk at you. If he doesn't come to you first, go to him. Don't let this ruin years of friendship, okay?"

"Got it," I answer, leaning into him. "Thanks."

"No problem. Don't ever think you can't come to me with something that's bothering you, okay? Promise me?"

"I promise."

"Now, if you'll excuse me, I've got finals to study for. And I believe you do, too."

"Hell yeah, better get on that shit."

"Hop to it, little bro!" he says with a slap on my back before heading for the stairs.

I continue to sit on the sofa for a little longer, pulling at a couple of loose threads that have popped out of the seam of the cushion, pondering my next move. Taking out my cell phone, I decide to send Edward a text.

_Can we talk when you get home?_

Leaning back on the sofa, my knee starts to bounce as I wait for a reply. My eyelids drift closed for just a moment before my phone buzzes in my hand.

_Not interested_, is his response

Those two words are like a punch to the stomach, and I actually wince in pain. I can't blame him though, I kinda had that coming to me. I certainly wouldn't want to talk to me if I were in his shoes.

_I just want to apologize and get some things off my chest. Please?_

After pressing "Send", I stare blankly at my phone screen, as if in doing so, Edward will reply quicker. It brings to mind a memory of my mother telling me that "a watched pot never boils." Gazing at my phone, I start to think the same thing in this case: a watched cell phone never buzzes. Proving me wrong, my phone buzzes to life with a reply from Edward.

_Why? Want me to do the same thing to you did to me this morning? I wanted to get some things off my chest, too, but you just threw it all in my face and walked away._

Those words hurt even more, and I hate like hell that he's right about what I did to him.

_I was wrong to do that. I'm confused about a lot of things and I snapped. I'm sorry._

I hold my breath until my lungs feel like they will burst as I wait for a reply.

_You're sorry, and I'm not interested. I said I'm done._

Biting my lip, I try to tamp down the hurt and anger that's welling up inside me, and before long, I taste the copper bitterness of blood in my mouth, which tells me that I'm trying a little too hard.

_Fine. Forget it. I guess I'm done, too._

My thumb hovers over the "Send" button for a moment as I contemplate erasing the message and all out beg for his forgiveness.

_Fuck it_, I think to myself.

After sending the message, I finally haul myself off the sofa and head for the stairs. Just minutes before, my intentions were to head to my room and get some studying in, but I'm not in the right frame of mind to concentrate on school work right now. Instead, I decide to head over to Volturi Music, and lose myself in dreaming about the guitars I can't afford to buy, and go through Mr. Volturi's selection of picks that I _can_ afford to buy.

Eighteen minutes later, a tambourine hanging on the door in lieu of an entry bell lets Mr. Volturi know that I've arrived. His weathered face brightens when he sees me heading over to the counter where he keeps the guitar picks.

"Jasper! So good to see you, my boy. It's been a while," he declares, eyes crinkling with his enthusiastic smile.

"You're in an awfully chipper mood today, Mr. V.," I say with a smile, digging into the bucket of hard picks. Picking one up, I flick the edge with a thumb nail before palming it to continue pawing through the rest.

"James is coming home this week. He's been away for so long and it'll be so good to have him back," he replies with a triumphant grin.

I have to fight the urge to scoff, because "away", is Mr. Volturi's codeword for "Juvie". His grandson, James, had gotten into one too many scuffles, been arrested one too many times, and was finally sent to juvenile detention until his twenty-first birthday, which apparently, is coming up. The details were sketchy on his last offense, but the general consensus was that he beat the living shit out of someone, and since the victim was a minor at the time, his name has never been released.

"That's great, Mr. V. I'm sure you've missed him like crazy," I say instead, with a smile.

"Yeah, Gramps is about the only one who _has_ missed him," a voice snickers from behind me.

Turning around, I see Mr. Barbosa wheeling through the store in his wheelchair with a box in his lap. Stopping in front of a display rack of drumsticks, he begins emptying the box's contents into the various slots, sorting them by brand.

Watching him work, I think back on all the rumors that circulated following the incident that put him in that wheelchair several years ago. A man broke into his house late one night and brutally beat him with a baseball bat. In addition to the damage to his spinal chord, paralyzing him from the waist down, he also suffered broken ribs, massive bruising, and a ruptured spleen. He was lucky to escape with his life. The fact that his attacker didn't take anything from his home raised some eyebrows, and the police surmised that it was either a random act of violence, or more likely, a personal attack. Mr. Barbosa claimed he never got a good look at his attacker. That, combined with the fact that the assailant took his weapon with him, left authorities scratching their heads. The community cried out for justice, wanting vindication for the attack, but Mr. Barbosa wasn't eager to press it; he repeatedly said that he was just grateful and continued to thank God that he'd survived.

It was pretty common knowledge that Mr. Barbosa, and his younger brother James, never got along. The two brothers often got into fist-fights, despite the fact that the older of the two was a peaceful man. Mr. Barbosa had been an all-star athlete since he was old enough to play organized sports, and after he finished college, he signed on as the track coach at our high school. James, on the other hand, was in detention or suspended from school more often than not. He detested team sports, and routinely picked fights with the athletes, regardless of how popular they were or what sport they played. He was an equal-opportunity asshole. Their parents were ever hopeful that James would turn around and follow in his brother's footsteps, but he seemed dead set on purposefully failing to meet any and all expectations, unless of course, those expectations included assault and battery.

Since nobody had been called out as a suspect in Mr. Barbosa' assault, it wasn't hard for someone, including myself, to think that James had not gone to juvie for beating a kid, but instead, for nearly killing his brother. The thought makes me shudder.

"How are you doing, Mr. Barbosa?" I ask, leaving the counter with a handful of picks, and making my way to the acoustic guitars hanging on the wall. Removing a shiny Gibson from its pegs, I prop my foot up on the chair near the wall and begin to tune it, gently plucking the strings with one of my new picks, and turning the keys until the notes sound right.

He doesn't make eye contact and instead offers me a tight smile. "I'm doing well, Jasper, thank you for asking." He takes his now empty box, and wheels himself to the stockroom.

Once an outgoing, talkative man, he's now skittish, and avoids conversations like the plague. I'm fairly certain that if it weren't for the fact that his grandfather owned the store, he would happily spend all his time at home, keeping away from everyone.

Deciding to ignore my musings, I begin to absently strum a few chords on the Gibson. I get so absorbed that I'm startled when Mr. Volturi asks me a question.

"So when you gonna buy her instead of just stopping by for the occasional love making session, Jazz?"

With a smirk, I answer, "You got a few grand I can borrow? I'm not made of money, Mr. V." It's a True Vintage Red Spruce Acoustic, a stunning specimen, but regrettably, way out of my price range.

Chuckling, he waves me off with his hand before walking to the saxophone display to assist someone who intends to spend more money than just a few bucks on some picks.

I coax a couple songs out of the beautiful instrument before I determine that I should really stop procrastinating, and focus on the school work waiting for me at home. Once I pay for my picks, I reluctantly go out to my truck and head for the house, silently praying that Edward hasn't made it back yet.

I feel like a fool for putting this off, because I quickly realize, after spending the next several hours throwing myself into abnormal psychological disorders for Psych class, and forcing myself to remember too damn many formulas for chemistry, that the easiest way to get Edward off my mind is to absorb myself in class work.

And the easiest way to ruin it all is to stop.

I look out my window and see that the sun has already set. Feeling my stomach growl, I also realize that lemon muffins aren't enough to sustain me all day. I don't even look at the clock because I don't care what time it is. All I know is that I haven't heard Edward or Bella return, and I have no clue where they went.

At first I'm angry, but before long, my heart sinks because I actually started to allow myself to hope on the ride back from Nana's today that Edward and I could work something out. With our texting conversation earlier, though, it all seems pretty hopeless.

I wrestle with the thought of ignoring his request to drop it and just telling Edward how I feel about him. What would he think now if I told him that I love how he makes me feel? That he makes my heart pound like crazy? That just the thought of his smirk makes me hard?

_Great, good job there, Jazz. Now you've got an aching heart _and_ an aching hard-on._

Originally, the idea of his hands on me terrified me. Now, that thought has me wanting to jack off like a mad man. How screwed up is that?

How screwed up is it? Really? I mean, it's certainly not the first time I've done it. What's wrong with fantasizing? At the rate I'm going, I'll be lucky if that's all I get. And right now, I'm exhausted, and my brain is fried. If this is all I'm gonna get, I'm gonna take it.

I undo my belt, pop the button above my fly, and lower my zipper before palming my erection while I contemplate a little fantasy in my head. I flash back to my dream earlier this morning of going down on Edward. Yeah, that was hot, but I would much rather imagine him getting me off instead.

I let my mind drift back to when he had me pushed up against his bedroom door, teasing the hell out of me while Jacob was trying to talk with me.

_Edward is on his knees, kissing the sensitive skin below my navel and swiping his tongue across the outline of the tattoo on my hip._

Whoa! Too much…too fucking fast. Thirty more seconds of imagining Edward's tongue on me and I'm a goner.

What else?

The basement?

_With Alice?_

Hell no…forget Alice.

_Edward pushes me on my back, pressing me into the cold basement floor. I'm not shocked this time; I want him to touch me, I want him to press himself against me. Grabbing the back of his head, and pulling him toward me, I taste his lips. So fucking delicious. He groans against my mouth, and instead of waiting for him to take the initiative, I thrust my hips into his. Because he's still straddling me, I have to arch my back to reach him, but I succeed in making my point as he growls, "Fuck."_

_My hands slide down his back, and I sink my fingers into his hips, pulling him toward me. Edward responds by spreading his knees, nearly flattening his entire body against me before pushing up slightly on his elbows._

_With a slow roll of his hips, I nearly come undone beneath him._

"_Is this what you wanted, Jasper? To feel how hard you make me? To feel my cock grinding against yours?"_

"_Yes, Edward. That's exactly what I want," I reply, arching my back to press into him._

_Edward lowers his head and a soft whimper escapes his lips. I need to hear that sound again. So sweet. I tighten the grip I have on his hips as I press against him again._

"_Edward, look at me," I whisper._

_After a slight hesitation, he finally fixes his soft green eyes on me._

"_This is what you do to me," I say just before thrusting against him with a bit more force._

_I'm rewarded with another sweet whimper from his mouth. "Jazz…"_

_He drops his head to nuzzle my neck, nipping gently at my skin. I groan in response and bite my bottom lip. Edward continues to roll his hips against me, making me delirious with the friction created._

_He drags his tongue against my jaw from my chin to my ear._

"_Fuck…Edward…"_

"_Tell me you want me, Jazz. Tell me you want me to touch you, to taste you, to make you come."_

_Those words make me whimper now, because each one rings true._

_I let go of his hips and wrap my arms around his shoulders. Then, all but begging into his ear, I whisper, "Edward, I do want you. I'm fucking lying when I say I don't."_

_I turn my head to kiss him and he immediately plunges his tongue into my mouth. I'll never tire of his lips on mine._

_Arching my back into him, I meet every roll of his hips with a thrust of mine and before long, our movements become erratic. My muscles are quivering, the muffled sounds coming from our joined lips become claimant, emphatic._

_Edward is the first to break our kiss, and he presses his forehead to mine._

"_Jazz, I'm…"_

_I echo the words he whispered into my ear the last time we were in this position. "Come for me, love."_

"Fuck…" I mutter. My feverish strokes on my erection cause my back to arch.

_Jesus…almost…there…_

My eyes snap to my bedroom door when I hear a hitched breath, and I feel the blood rush from my face, as I now see Edward standing in the doorway.

_Fuck. My. God. Damn. Fucking. Life._

"Door…was open…" he whispers, face flushed crimson red and one hand gripping a handful of his hair.

"Then shut it," I growl.

_I can't believe this._

After closing my eyes, I hear the door gently shut. I gasp, because the next sound I expect to hear is not his footsteps coming towards the bed.

Keeping my eyes squeezed shut, I ask in a strained whisper, "Edward…what are you _doing_?"

I have no idea what to expect of him. Does he want to stand by the bed and watch me jerk off?

The mattress lowers as he climbs onto the bed, and I nearly lose it when he actually straddles me. Reflexively, my hands reach out to push him off me, but instead they make fists in his shirt. I feel his breath hot on my neck and I can't breathe.

"I changed mind mind," he says, "I wanna talk. Something on your mind, Jasper?" Hearing his voice grating with lust makes my aching cock throb that much harder. It's damn near excruciating because I was so close to exploding when he interrupted me.

After swallowing hard, I'm able to breathe again, however, I can't bring myself to answer him.

"For starters, I want you to tell me what's got you so fucking hard. Who are you thinking about?" he demands in my ear. I can only gasp for air wildly in response.

"Tell me who does this to you, Jasper."

His name is on the tip of my tongue but I can't force it past my lips.

"I need you to say it. Out loud." His lips are now at my ear and each word is clipped. When I still fail to answer, he finally growls, "_Say it_."

"It's you, Edward. You do this to me," I rasp.

Quickly, I realize that the emotion in Edward's voice isn't lust like I originally thought. He's furious.

Pounding his fists into the mattress on both sides of my head, he growls, "Then why the _fuck_ do you keep pushing me away?"

Fear is now coiled in my belly because I know what he's capable of when he's this angry.

I begin to stammer, afraid of hesitating with my answer. "B...B...Bella..." He now pushes himself up to look at me directly, seething, eyes wild with anger.

"Why won't you believe me when I tell you there's nothing going on between us? _Nothing_!"

"Edward, the baby…" I choke out.

He pulls back from me a bit more, his t-shirt straining in my death grip.

"How did you know Bella was pregnant?"

"I heard her tell you yesterday."

Edward blinks a few times before his brows knit together. "And just what is it about Bella being pregnant that bothers you so much?"

How the hell can he ask me that? Does he not think that becoming a father might complicate things? Does he not think that it bothers me knowing that no matter what happens between us, she will always have a piece of him, even if I have nothing?

"Stop trying to look at the big picture, Jazz, and tell me _exactly_ what bothers you about Bella being pregnant. I'm looking for a simple answer here."

Suddenly, I'm filled with the demanding urge to hit him as I realize I'm beginning to absorb some of his anger—it's welling up inside me. In fact, I'm so angry, that I can't open my mouth for fear that I wouldn't be able to stop with just that, and would actually strike him. I answer him simply by gritting my teeth and breathing heavily through my nose, since I'm not capable of much else without inflicting some sort of bodily harm.

"I guess I'm gonna have to answer my own question then. The thing that bothers you so badly is the fact that I knocked her up. Am I right?"

A strangled, groaning sob rips from my throat and I tighten the grip I have on his shirt, "_Yes_, God damn it! It fucking _kills_ me, Edward! How the _fuck_ could you think it wouldn't?"

My conversation with Claire suddenly seems ridiculous. I can't compete with Bella and a baby. They will always be his priority and I will be left behind. It's inevitable.

"Jasper, if this bothered you so much, why didn't you talk to me about it?" Even in a whisper, I hear his voice crack. I'm a fool to think that this didn't bother him. Regardless of his irresponsibility with getting Bella pregnant, he didn't intentionally do it to screw with me.

Am I still mad? Fuck yes, I am.

"What good would it have done, Edward? She'd still be pregnant—"

Edward cuts me off and gets right in my face as he hisses, "With another man's baby!"

_Wait, what?_

My shock at his words must register on my face his because his voice softens. "She was scared. She came to me because I'm her best friend. Christ, Jasper. Why can't you just open your fucking mouth for once in your life?"

_Oh my God, what have I done?_

"Edward," I choke. My body begins to convulse from the effort to contain the sobs threatening to rend my chest to pieces.

How could I have been so _stupid_? To not even consider asking him if he was the father of Bella's baby? To think that he was just so cavalier with Bella's feelings and his responsibilities?

"Do you think that I would be as careless as to not to protect myself from getting a girl pregnant? Do you think I would touch you without knowing that I've done everything in my power to protect you from getting sick? Do you think that little of me, Jasper?"

I can see tears swimming in his eyes and know he sees the same in mine. How could I have doubted that he would do the right thing? All I can do is shake my head and struggle to keep the tears from falling.

"If you have a problem, Jazz please, come to me. Talk to me. Just open your mouth." With his last words, he trails the fingers of one hand around my lips. I close my eyes and my entire body shivers at his touch.

"Is there anything else bothering you right now that I should know about?" He's now brushing my lips with the pad of his thumb.

"Yes," I whisper.

I hear Edward swallow and I open my eyes to look at him.

"I…I was...uh…kind of in the middle of something when you showed up."

Well, he _did_ want to know if anything else was bothering me. The fact that I still have a raging hard-on, despite our conversation, and the fact that I was so close to release, is definitely bothering me right now.

"So, I noticed," Edward whispers, dipping his head down to my neck, and brushing his lips against me.

I release a shuddering breath and grip his shirt even tighter in my fists.

"In fact, I was watching for quite a while, and it was all I could do to not do the same thing," he adds with a nip at my jaw.

A low, deep groan spills from my mouth.

Balancing his weight on one hand, Edward uses the other to drift down my side, the heat of his skin penetrating the fabric of my t-shirt.

When his hand reaches the waistband of my open jeans, he gently digs his thumb into the "V" of my hip and traces the line until he reaches my tattoo. Flattening his palm against the inked skin, his hand slides further down before he grips my thigh.

"Oh, God!" I cry out, and my hips automatically respond to his touch by nearly jumping off the mattress.

"This looks like quite a big problem, Jasper. Did you need help working this out?" Edward murmurs huskily before taking my ear lobe between his teeth.

The smallest bit of control I was struggling to maintain slips, and I finally snap. I push Edward off me and, after sitting up, pin him on his back onto the mattress. Before he can react, I shove the hem of his t-shirt up to his chest and begin to practically consume every bit of flesh exposed to me, laving the chiseled muscles with my tongue, pulling his nipples into my mouth, nipping the skin on his hip bones. I'm frantic trying to gorge myself on this man who has altered everything I've ever known.

"Shit…Jasper…Christ!" Edward gasps.

Suddenly, he pushes me back until we're both in a sitting position with Edward straddling my thighs. With lightening speed, he whips his shirt over his head and throws it across the room. I start to mirror his actions, but he beats me to it, grabbing the hem of my t-shirt, and forcing my arms up, as he yanks it over my head to discard it with his own.

My erection is now sandwiched between us, pressing against the skin of my belly and the fly of his jeans. Desperate for release, I thrust my hips to meet Edward's, the rough fabric of the denim giving me much needed friction, but causing me to hiss at the accompanying discomfort.

He falls back onto the mattress and in a flurry of motion, quickly releases his belt, opens his fly, and shoves his jeans and boxers down his hips, and ultimately, completely off, tossing them on the floor with the rest of our abandoned clothing.

I begin to do the same thing when Edward is suddenly in my lap, straddling me again. "No, keep them on," he pants. "Just…this…" he whispers, dipping his hands into the back of my jeans, slipping beneath the waistband of my boxer briefs and pushing both down, exposing me completely. I gasp at the feeling of his hands sliding down the cheeks of my ass, and then groan when his hands slide back up to squeeze me.

Slipping my arms beneath his, I wrap them around his back, pulling him tight against me before crushing my lips to his. He whimpers into my mouth as I slip my tongue inside. My hands slide down his back, squeezing the quivering muscles beneath his taut skin. When my hands reach his hips, I hesitate briefly before sliding lower to grip his ass. Edward groans into my mouth, and grinds his hips into mine.

"Shit," I mutter against him. It had felt so incredible when he'd pressed into me with our boxers still on that day in the basement. The sensation created by feeling his bare skin sliding against my own now, however, is unfuckingbelievable.

Edward brings one of his arms to hook around the back of my neck, and he breaks away from the kiss to sink his teeth into my shoulder. His name tumbles from my lips in a stuttered gasp as I grip his ass harder and thrust against his hips. Leaning back, Edward brings his other hand to his face covering his mouth. I'm confused. "Edward, wha…?" but before I can finish my thought, he brings his hand down to our laps and wraps his palm and fingers around both of our erections, pumping his hand a couple of times. My eyes roll in the back of my head as I realize he wasn't covering his mouth, but instead, making his hand slick with saliva before he gripped our cocks.

"God damn it, Edward, that feels so good," I gasp.

He begins to stroke our erections in a swift, steady rhythm, stopping every so often to palm both of the heads and spread the precum that has begun to accumulate. I can't stop my hips from trying to buck into his grip, which is made slightly difficult by our positioning. Regardless, I'm in heaven. I can honestly say that I have never felt anything this amazing before.

Edward's hand starts to increase the pace and he leans back, holding onto the back of my neck to brace his weight. His eyes are squeezed shut and soft grunts fall from his lips.

"Edward," I sigh, bringing his focus to me. I mimic his earlier move by bringing my hand to my mouth, coating it in my saliva before brushing his hand out of the way to grip both of our erections in my fist. My self esteem shoots up a notch as I watch Edward's head loll back on his shoulders and hear him hiss, "Fuck, Jasper."

Pulling him closer to me, I bring my lips to his ear, murmuring the same words he said to me in the basement, "Your cock feels so fucking good against mine."

Edward makes a fist in the back of my hair as my hand picks up the pace, becoming a blur as I pump us both. Shocking the hell out of me, he growls in my ear, "If you think this feels good, just wait till I'm fucking you."

My stomach flips at his words, and I can't decide what shocks me more: his suggestion, or the fact that I haven't objected.

He pulls back and presses his forehead to mine as we both watch my hand stroke our cocks. The visual is the most erotic fucking thing I've ever seen. That, coupled with Edward's words about what he wants to do to me, cause the familiar burn of impending climax to tighten in my groin.

The muscles in my arm are straining to keep up the frantic pace of my strokes, and I can hear Edward panting along with me. Right now, I can only pray he's as close as I am. My prayers are answered when he mutters, "Fuck, Jazz, I'm gonna come." I can't even respond, my breath is officially gone.

"Look at me," Edward grunts.

Doing as he asks, I stare into his eyes and watch his face contort into a grimace as his release draws closer.

"I want you to come with me," he begs.

Licking my lips, I nod frantically in response.

Edward brings his hand back to his mouth before brushing my hand away to take over. Finally finding my breath, I yell, "Oh, _shit_!" just before Edward pulls me to him for a kiss. Immediately, his tongue is in my mouth, and I'm moaning pitifully into him, and he groans in perfect harmony with my lustful lament.

My body stiffens as I feel the approach of my orgasm just as Edward's body jerks against me, the rhythm of his hand becoming erratic. My hand slides down his back once more to join the other remaining at his hip and I squeeze his ass with both hands. Edward practically screams into my mouth as his body stiffens, just before my body begins to shake with my orgasm when, finally, Edward's strokes become a wet slick as we simultaneously spill into his fist. The rhythm of his hand slows as he squeezes the remains of our orgasm through the heads of our cocks. My body is suddenly so fucking weak that I wrap my arms around Edward's shoulders to keep from falling over.

He finally breaks our kiss, and pulls back slightly to smile at me, his chest rising and falling heavily with each breath. I return his smile just before he literally hops off my lap and off the bed.

"Where you going?" I ask as my heart begins to fall.

Edward picks up one of our shirts off the floor just jumps back onto the bed, and makes quick work of cleaning off his hand, and both of our softening erections, before I speak. "Dude, that better be _your_ shirt."

Edward snickers. "It is…but I'm tossing it in with your laundry."

Flopping back onto the bed, I chuckle. I can't wrap my mind around what just happened. The only thing clear to me is that this was hands-the-fuck-down, the most incredible sexual experience I've ever had. And it was with a man—and I definitely want a repeat performance. More than that, I want Edward to stay with me tonight. I have no idea if he just wanted to get off and go, or if he'd rather actually sleep with me. I start to hope he will say something when I realize that all the confusion as of late has been caused by me not speaking up.

I'm not about to screw this up already.

"Stay with me," I whisper.

Edward's face breaks into a grin and his eyes light up at my request. "If you didn't want me to sleep with you in your bed, I'd just drag you back to mine," he jokes before leaning in for a kiss. I taste his lips briefly, feeling that now familiar electric current pulse through my body at his touch.

Since I don't see Edward make a move to put his boxers or jeans back on, I decide to remove mine. Now completely naked, I pull back the covers of the bed and slip beneath them. Edward then tosses his t-shirt into the hamper and crawls in bed beside me, pulling me into his chest.

After breathing his scent deep into my lungs, I sigh against his muscular form. "I'm sorry I've been such a dick. I should have said something."

I can barely stay awake to hear his response after he kisses the top of my head. "It's okay. We'll talk in the morning. Just sleep, love."

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**A/N Thank you for reading! :)**


	13. Waking Up

**A/N SM owns the Twilight Saga, its characters and everything else. I merely own the laptop on which I wrote this. Thanks go to Dark Absynthe, Touchstone67, and of course, the awesomeness that is Zigster for betaing this chapter.**

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Warm. So fucking warm. Jesus, I haven't slept this well in fricken ages. For once, I hear the birds chirping outside my window, and I don't have the urge to shoot staples at them. All I want to do is lie in bed all day, reveling in the most incredible dream I have _ever_ had.

Bella was having someone else's baby. Edward wanted to be with me even though I've been such a complete fuckwit. And Edward…_oh, Edward_. I got more satisfaction out of a dream about Edward than I've ever gotten from actually having sex with someone. _Christ_ that was hot! Feeling my cock pressed against his, Edward's slick fist wrapped around us…_shit._ It was such a vivid dream, that just thinking about it causes my usual morning wood to become a full-blown hard-on. Right now, I'd love nothing more than to roll over onto my back to take care of business, but I can't move.

_What the hell?_

"Mornin', Jasper," Edward murmurs, nuzzling my neck.

My eyes snap open and I flip over onto my back, jostling Edward in the process.

"Holy hell, Edward!" I grumble, scrubbing my eyes with the heels of my hands. It _wasn't_ a dream?

Edward's panic is evident in his eyes as he begins to stammer, "What? What's the matter? Christ, Jazz, are you mad at me? Do you want me to—"

I cut him off by grabbing his face in my hands and quickly kissing his lips. Pressing my forehead against his, and closing my eyes, I say, "I'm sorry. I was just so certain that last night was all a dream. I'm not mad."

He sounds relieved as he chuckles against me and returns my kiss, sliding his hands beneath my back to hug me close. As I hum against him in satisfaction, my body practically vibrates with his electricity.

"Do you feel it, too?" I ask him, breathless.

"Feel what? This?" he asks, grinding his hips into me. A groan escapes my mouth as I feel his granite erection pressing into mine, and it reminds me that we're both still very naked.

"Well…that, too," I reply, with a hum. "I was actually referring to the feeling I get every time you touch me. It's like electricity."

"Mmmm…The Jasper Buzz. Of course I feel it," he says with a nip to the crook of my neck.

I can't help but chuckle at the fact that he named the sensation after me. My chuckle is short lived, however, as he growls in my ear, "You think that's funny?" he asks, right before raking his teeth against my jaw.

I wrap my arms around his shoulders as I bring my hips up to meet his. Hissing against me, Edward meets my thrust with one of his own.

Pushing his upper body off me, he looks down at me with a smirk, "I have a question for you." He begins to roll his hips against me, driving me insane to the point where I can barely form thoughts, let alone words to answer his question.

"What's that?" I pant.

Leaning forward, he traces the shell of my ear with his tongue, causing a violent shiver to ripple through my body. "How long has it been since your cock's received proper attention?"

I squeeze my eyes shut and gasp at his words. "Um," I start to say before he begins to drag his tongue down the column of my neck. "I…uh…I'm pretty sure…you gave it plenty of attention last night."

Sliding his body lower, he draws one of my nipples into his mouth, grazing it with his teeth.

"Jesus, _fuck!"_ I cry out.

He abandons my nipple and continues to move farther down my torso, nuzzling his face into my skin. The stubble on his face grating across my abs is maddening, and I feel my entire body begin to quiver. Reaching my excruciatingly hard erection, he teasingly blows against the head, and my hips jump off the mattress in response.

"That's not the attention I was referring to, Jazz," he says just before he touches the very tip of his tongue to my slit.

"Shit!" I gasp while fisting my hands in the sheet.

"So, does that mean it's been a while?" he asks with a sly grin.

"No, it's just…_shit!_" My thought process is cut off as he dips down and begins to nurse the head of my cock with his mouth. His lips constrict and release rhythmically around me as his tongue flutters just beneath the head. Suddenly, he releases me, the pull of his lips creating the sound of a loud smacking kiss.

He looks up at me and licks his lips. "It's just what?"

"It's you…I…I don't think I'll be able to last long," I can barely breathe, let alone speak.

Grinning and holding my gaze, he returns his mouth to my cock. He swirls his tongue around the head before slowly sucking in my entire length, causing me to cry out. It's true; I'm not going to last long…at all. He immediately begins to bob his head along my rigid length, making the most delicious noises; slurping, sucking, moaning.

"_Fuck_, Edward! Christ, that's perfect," I gasp.

My hands drift to his soft, messy locks and begin to massage his scalp. Apparently, this spurs him on, because he closes his eyes before increasing the suction of his mouth and the speed of his movements. Releasing, his hair, my hands slide down and caress the soft skin stretched taut over his sinewy shoulders. I want to touch him everywhere, but it's impossible with the way we're positioned.

"Wait, Edward. Hold up."

He stills his movements and opens his eyes to look at me, stunned, as he removes his wickedly talented mouth from me. "What's wrong? What did I do?"

I smirk at him and sit up with my back against the headboard. After patting the spot on the bed beside me, I raise an eyebrow at him. He hesitates briefly before crawling up the bed to sit beside me. Leaning over, I kiss him on the lips.

_So fucking warm_.

"You did absolutely nothing wrong, trust me. I just want to be able to touch you, and I can't with your body angled that way."

He gives me that sexy lopsided grin. "You want to touch me while I suck you off, Jasper?"

Smiling, I lick my lips and nod.

"Hell, I'm not about to turn that down," he says before kissing me. Breaking away, his head returns to my lap with his body now perpendicular to mine. Edward's back is beautifully arched as I run my hand over toned muscles and smooth, supple skin. Supporting his weight on one arm, his opposite hand slips to my lap to begin caressing and tugging my balls. I bite my lip to keep from screaming as my hand drifts to his ass to squeeze and stroke his flesh. Whimpering around me, Edward begins to pick up the pace again, the sound of fervent suction growing more pronounced.

I growl before bringing my hand to my mouth to coat it in saliva and reach beneath him to grasp his hard cock in my fist. Immediately, Edward bucks into my hand and groans around me. He hums low and deep around my erection, sending delirious vibrations straight through me.

Stroking him with one hand, I bring my other hand to the back of his head, gripping his hair as he continues to suck me. My head falls back against the headboard, and my eyes squeeze shut. This is, without a doubt, the most incredible blow job I have ever received. _Ever_.

I briefly entertain the thought about how much more lethal his mouth would be if he had a tongue ring like mine. The idea makes my body tense up and my hips involuntarily buck into Edward's face. I'm about to apologize when I see that my actions don't even cause Edward to break stride. However, I do notice that he appears to be trying to smile around my cock.

"You think that's funny?" I ask, teasing him with his own words.

His movements falter as he struggles to laugh with his mouth full. While he seems to be momentarily distracted in his amusement, I release his dick to bring my hand back to my mouth for a little more lubrication, and swiftly return my attentions to him with vigor. His muffled cry nearly sends me over the edge and the hand I have in his hair tightens into a fist, making him groan while the speed of his movements increase, and he sucks me even harder.

"Shit, Edward…I'm about to come," I gasp.

I expect him to move and finish me off with his hand. Not once has a girl ever let me come in her mouth; not even Alice.

Edward. Doesn't. Move.

Gritting my teeth, I groan, "Edward…_fuck_!"

He moans just before I feel him swallow around me as I shoot into his mouth. I'm reduced to a whimpering, panting mess as my balls continue to empty into him. For several moments, my mind is filled with nothing resembling rational thought. Edward's a fucking pro.

"Christ, Edward. So incredible," I whisper as my orgasm begins to subside.

As my heart rate starts to return to normal, I can't help but think how baffling this is to me that I've chased girls for years, had what I thought at the time was amazing sex…countless times, and nothing, _nothing_ compares to what I've experienced with Edward. Every woman I've been with, even Alice, who I've always considered top notch, pales in comparison. It slays me to think that the perfect lover has been right under my nose all this time; Edward, my best friend. We've known each other for nearly twenty years and I've been so blind from the beginning.

Edward is now looking at me, cheeks flushed, eyes dancing with laughter and lust, and with that luscious mouth parted in that sexy smirk. His soft, pink tongue darts out to lick his lips and the motion causes a shiver to wrack my body as he leans in for a kiss. Just before he touches his lips to mine, he whispers, "Is this okay?" Smiling, I nod my assent before weaving my hands into his hair and pulling him to me. Our tongues instantly meet and I taste traces of a salty flavor that I realize must be mine. Thoroughly expecting to be repulsed, I'm actually quite shocked to find that it's not that bad. Different, yes. Something of an acquired taste, most definitely. That last thought makes me chuckle against Edward's mouth, and he pulls back from the kiss, raising an eyebrow. "_Now_ what's so funny?"

"I was just thinking about how semen may be an acquired taste," I reply, rolling my eyes at how ridiculous the statement sounds. Apparently, I'm not the only one who thinks it sounds ridiculous because he throws his head back and laughs heartily.

Edward straddles my lap and grips the headboard with his hands as he leans in for another kiss. His erect cock brushes my belly, and I feel like an ass because I realize that he hasn't gotten off yet. My heart leaps in my throat at the thought that he may want me to reciprocate, and I'm not quite sure I'm ready for that step yet. True, I dreamed about this very thing a little over twenty-four hours ago, but that was just a dream. His hot, hard dick pressing into me right now is a very stark reality, and my pulse begins to race as I wonder if I'm going to have what it takes to even make it worthwhile for him. Shit, it's one thing to jerk him off, because I have plenty of experience in that department in the shower for Christ's sake. It's an entirely different thing to give him a blow job. Could I do that? Would I even be good at it?

He places his hand on my chest and I'm sure he feels my heart pounding beneath his palm.

Snickering, he says, "Calm down, Jasper. I'm not about to ask you to suck my dick." He leans forward to gently kiss my neck, making my heart pound even harder.

For a brief moment, I wonder if I should offer to anyway. Thinking better of it, I decide not to. I wouldn't want to do something like that and have him think it's only because I feel obligated. That would certainly take the fun out of it.

Settling on the next best thing, I make a show of thoroughly licking my palm before gripping his cock again. His eyes flutter closed just before he begins to thrust into my hand. Letting him control the movements, I squeeze my fist tighter around him, eliciting a low groan originating deep from within his chest. My free hand slips down to squeeze his ass as I lean forward to whisper in his ear.

"Does that feel good, Edward?"

"Ugghh…fuck yes," he grunts.

"You wanna know what I was dreaming about when you woke me up yesterday morning, baby?" My heart skips a beat at the ease with which the term of endearment slips past my lips.

Edward doesn't verbally answer; he just nods his head furiously in response.

"I had you pushed against my door and I was on my knees before you," I whisper, kissing the sensitive spot just below his ear.

Edward's head drops to my shoulder before he moans, "Oh God…"

"I had your dick in my mouth, sucking it hard and deep into my throat, pressing my tongue ring into your flesh," I let my voice trail off as I concentrate on Edward thrusting madly into my fist, my hand slick with pre-cum.

My name falls from his lips in a ragged whimper as he presses his forehead to the headboard. Dipping my head to his chest, I let my tongue dart out to tease one of his nipples.

"Guh, _fuck_, Jazz!"

Encouraged, I press my tongue harder against the pebbled bud and manipulate it with my tongue ring. Edward growls before pounding the wall with his fist. "Coming…"

After two more deep thrusts, I feel hot streams of cum hit my belly, causing me to moan against his skin. His movements cease moments later, and I turn my head to lean against Edward's chest, feeling his heart pound while listening to the sound of his heavy breathing against my shoulder.

Before long, Edward collapses against me, arms tightly wrapped around my shoulders and lips pressed to my neck. Wrapping my arms around him, I pull him close, completely ignoring the fact that his climax has made a bit of a mess.

Edward turns his head to kiss me just as there's a loud pounding on my door.

_What the hell?_

"Jasper…guess what day it is?" Jacob calls out in a ridiculous sing-songy voice.

I pull back from Edward and panic settles briefly in the pit of my stomach. What will Jacob think if he knew that Edward and I were in bed together? Do I want him to know?

"Um…the day after yesterday?" I call back to him.

Edward, unfazed, begins to kiss and nibble my neck, causing me to squirm beneath him.

"Up and at em, man! It's Sunday and I need pancakes!"

Hell. It sure is Sunday. About a year ago, I made the mistake of making a shitload of pancakes for the four of us a couple Sunday mornings in a row. A few instances of generosity turned into Jacob declaring it a tradition and not letting me skip a fricken Sunday. Whether I wanted to be or not, I had become Jacob's pancake bitch.

But, Christ! This morning of all fucking mornings? I'm more than just a bit reluctant to leave my little bliss bubble.

"You want 'em, you make 'em, Jake. I'm sleeping in, damn it!" I'm forced to bite my lip as Edward continues to practically worship my neck.

"I'm gonna give you to the count of ten, and I'm coming in there to drag your ass outta bed, boy."

He's pretty serious about his pancakes, and I have no doubt whatsoever that he'd make good on his threat.

Edward gives me one last kiss before climbing off me and getting out of bed. Following suit, I get up and grab Edward's slut hugger shirt out of the hamper to clean up before pulling on my jeans that were still on the floor. Edward pulls on his jeans before flopping backwards onto the bed as I make my way toward the door. Glancing in my mirror, it's very easy to tell that I didn't spend the night just sleeping. My hair's fucking everywhere, my skin's flushed and I'm covered in a light sheen of sweat. Not to mention the fact that I have a nice little bite mark on my shoulder; all courtesy of Edward.

Time to see how well Jacob's paying attention.

I open the door far enough to stand in the doorway but not far enough so Jacob can see Edward in my bed. After dragging my hand down my face, I say, "Jacob, really. It's Bisquick. Follow the directions on the back of the box and fucking quadruple the recipe for your hungry ass. It's not rocket science."

Of course, he's not paying attention to a word I'm saying because his eyes are giving me a once over.

He totally knows.

Snickering, he says, "Dude, you're post coital. Who's here?" He tries to peek around me, but I shift my weight from one foot to the other to block his view.

"Oh, now I _have_ to know!" he says as he pushes the door out of my grasp.

Holding my breath, and looking down at my feet, I wait for his reaction.

"Well, I'll be God damned. 'Bout freakin' time. Helping him work out another charley horse, Edward?"

My head snaps up to look at Jacob as he throws his head back in laughter. Finally focusing on me, he says, "Jazz, I may not be a rocket scientist, but I'm not stupid."

Not missing a beat, he grabs me by the shoulders and looks me directly in the eye. "Now, Jasper. I'm only gonna say this once. Hit the shower, de-sex yourself, and then get your ass downstairs and make me some pancakes."

Before he can turn away, I flip him off to which he quirks his head and replies, "Now, wouldn't that be Edward's job?" With a wide shit-eating grin, he heads for the stairs, presumably to wait at the table for his pancakes.

I'm stunned. Jacob wasn't surprised, which now apparently makes me the fucking poster child for "Oblivious". Do they make drugs for this shit?

Turning around, I'm hit with an episode of déjà vu as I see Edward curled into a fetal position, convulsing in silent laughter.

"I'm glad you found that so amusing."

His laughter is no longer silent as the air rings out with an enthusiastic guffaw. His face is nearly scarlet, and his eyes are squeezed shut, while his arms are wrapped tightly around his middle as his entire body seizes in his hilarity.

Oh yeah. The saying "ignorance is bliss" is a crock of shit.

Crossing the room over to the bed, I push Edward onto his back and climb on top of him. His laughter dies off to choked snickers and he has to wipe tears from his eyes.

Leaning forward, I nuzzle the sweet spot behind his ear with my nose and whisper, "I've been given orders to shower and _de-sex_ myself. Wanna join me?"

After taking a few beats to catch his breath, he murmurs, "Mmmm…very tempting. Wouldn't be wise, though."

I suck his ear lobe for a brief moment. "And why's that?"

Edward slides his hands down my back and into my jeans, gripping my ass and causing me to moan in his ear.

"Because I wouldn't be able to stop myself from bending you over and taking your cherry."

A month ago, if someone were to even make a joke about dropping the soap, I would have shuddered at the very least, and not twenty minutes ago, I was nervous about the idea of giving Edward a blow job. So, it surprises me to no end that Edward's suggestion about fucking me causes me to involuntarily whimper and bury my face in his neck, all the while contemplating taking the decision out of his hands and begging him to do it right now.

And to top it all off, I just went from zero to hard in three point five seconds.

"Edward, that's quite unfair. I have a bit of a problem now," I whisper into his ear.

"Well then, I suggest you take care of that in the shower," he purrs as he turns his head to kiss me.

Groaning, I pull away from him and climbing back off the bed. As I reach the door, I glance back at Edward over my shoulder and he gives me a fucking wink.

"Kiss my ass, Masen," I grumble just as I grasp the doorknob.

In no time flat, Edward's off the bed and behind me, slamming the door shut. I yank my hand back and curse because he came that close to crushing my fingers in the door as I went to open it.

"You know damn well I want to do more than just _kiss_ your ass, _Cullen_."

I practically melt as he grasps my hips and drags me into his body. Reaching around with one hand, he deftly opens my fly and reaches inside my jeans to grip my cock. Using one of his feet, he kicks mine apart to widen my stance, much like a police officer would before he frisks a suspect. Both of my hands are planted on the door and my head is hanging between my shoulders.

Edward uses the hand not grasping my erection to hold fast to my hip as he grinds his denim clad erection…right _there. _"Holy Christ…oh Jesus…fucking hell!" I can't help but cry out to both deities and demons alike, because my body feels like it's possessed as Edward presses into me. My hips are now moving of their own volition, pressing back as he repeatedly grinds himself against my ass.

"Shit, Jasper…I love how fucking sensitive you are. We're not even undressed and you're dissolving."

I jerk in his grasp as I feel him reverently kiss the small of my back. Without even realizing I'm doing it, I lower my upper body so it's nearly parallel with the floor. Edward sighs deeply while stroking my back from my shoulders to the waistband of my jeans.

"So beautiful. Christ, Jazz I can't wait to fuck you. Just like this." To emphasize his point, he releases my cock from his grip and after firmly grabbing my hips in his hands, begins to thrust himself against me, over and over again.

My mouth falls open but no sound escapes because he has literally taken my breath away. I'm about to lose it. Again. I can't believe the effect Edward has on me.

Not even thinking about it, I drop one of my hands from the door and begin to stroke my cock with a vengeance. "Ung," Edward grunts. "That's it…pump yourself and imagine my dick buried inside you."

"Oh, fuck!" I'm now jerking off like I'm trying to get in the Guiness Book of World Records for 'Fastest Wank Ever'. Edward has me so twisted, I just desperately need to come…_right now_.

Edward's now slamming into me, his voice hoarse as various expletives pour from his lips. The fact that it sounds like he's about to come shoves me right over the edge.

"Ahh…shit!" I cry out as I explode in my hand.

Edward follows damn near immediately, and he sounds as if he's biting his bottom lip because I hear a muffled scream as he thrusts against me one last time and falls forward onto my back. I feel like I just ran the Boston Marathon right after swimming the English Channel. I don't know if I'm gonna be able to stand upright ever again. Edward's cheek is pressed into my back and I can feel his breath in strained gasps across my skin.

"You better…get in the shower…before we…fucking kill each other," he pants.

He helps me stand up before handing me the slut hugger shirt of glory once again.

"You might want to consider keeping tissues or something in here, Jazz," Edward snickers.

"Fuck, if last night and this morning are any indication, I'm gonna need to keep a fricken bath towel on hand," I respond while cleaning up the mess I made.

As I toss it back in the hamper, I hear Jacob bellow from downstairs. "Jasper—fuck later! Pancakes now!"

Just as I roll my eyes, Edward's behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist.

"Jasper, I hope you know I'm not gonna be able to stop myself from touching you now," he murmurs before kissing my shoulder.

"I don't know if I want you to stop yourself," I sigh, leaning into his touch.

Edward groans into my skin. "Jasper…you…you're like a drug to me. My own personal brand of heroin. I've wanted you for so long and now that I've had a taste, I'm completely addicted." He brushes his lips up the side of my neck and kisses me below the ear.

My chest tightens at his words because I'm pretty sure he's not just referring to my body.

And I'm scared to death.

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**A/N Thank you for reading! :)**


	14. Sunday Morning Pancakes

**A/N SM owns the Twilight Saga, its characters and everything else. I merely own the laptop on which I wrote this. Thanks go to Dark Absynthe, Touchstone67, and of course, the awesomeness that is Zigster for betaing this chapter** .

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Staring into the bowl of pancake batter, I start to panic a little. Did I already add the baking powder? What if I leave it out? What would happen if there's too much? Suddenly, my second tour of duty through Professor Banner's Chemistry class proves to be just as helpful as the first.

_It would serve Jake_ _right if I put in too much and his pancakes explode in his face._

"Anything I can do to help?"

I turn my head slightly to see Bella at my side with her back to the counter.

"Hey, girl. I didn't even hear you come in the kitchen." _How long has she been standing there?_

"You looked pretty deep in thought there," she says with a smile.

_Oh, you have no idea._

"So, help? Need any?"

"Um…yeah. Can you just grab the vanilla from that shelf right there?" I point directly behind her.

As she turns to grab the bottle of vanilla extract, she says, "You know, the basic recipe calls for just eggs and milk. Maybe if you didn't use the supreme crack recipe, Jacob wouldn't be bugging you every week."

Jacob's voice calls out from the laundry room, "Don't you go giving him any ideas, woman!"

Snickering, I add the extract to the batter before grabbing the electric hand mixer from the cabinet above the stove.

"Really, I don't mind. I just wanted to sleep in this morning. The last thing I felt like doing was leaving my bed." My face heats up at the mere thought of what I'd rather be doing at this very moment.

After I turn on the mixer, Bella slides a bit closer to me, crossing her arms over her chest before smirking and raising an eyebrow.

"That reminds me. I gave Edward a kick in the ass last night to talk to you. I waited up for him to return to his room for quite a while but, next thing I know, I'm waking up on his couch and his bed's still made. So, the fact that he never came back to his room would mean that things either went very poorly, or very well. And I'm going to venture a guess, since you're as red as a cherry right now, that things went very well." She finishes her statement with a wink and my skin heats even more at her analogy since that's the second time I heard the word, _cherry _this morning. My dick begins to harden as I replay Edward's words in my head…_I wouldn't be able to stop myself from bending you over and taking your cherry._

In an attempt to hide my problem from Bella, I press myself against the counter.

"Uh, Bella, I really don't feel comfortable having this conversation with you." Having this discussion with Edward's ex would probably be just as enjoyable as having it with my mother. I'd love nothing more than to drop it.

"Oh please, Jasper. I've been on him to make a move on you for months."

Before I can open my mouth to respond, two warm, strong arms wrap around my waist, followed by a clean-shaven cheek nuzzling my neck. I'm unable to keep myself from leaning into his body and sighing happily. It amazes me that I've never know such contentment from being in someone's arms until now.

The metallic clanging of the beaters making contact with the side of the stainless steel mixing bowl brings me out of my reverie as I remember that I'm in the middle of making pancakes, and Bella's standing there watching us. She ruffles the hair on both of our heads before getting a glass from the cabinet and walking over to the fridge to grab the gallon of milk. After pouring herself a glass, she practically inhales its contents. Refilling the glass, she empties the second just as quickly as the first.

"Thirsty?" Edward asks with a chuckle.

"Can't get enough milk lately," she says, wiping the milk mustache off her upper lip with her arm.

"Cravings already?" I ask with a smirk.

Bella raises her eyebrow and Edward suddenly stiffens against me.

_Oh, shit. She probably didn't_ _want me knowing about the baby._

"Wow, Edward. You didn't even wait an entire day before spilling that little tidbit of information, did you?" she scoffs.

I backpedal and try to save Edward a bit of grief since it was my own damn fault for being nosy. "Bella, Edward didn't come out and tell me. I heard you tell him you were pregnant the day you arrived. I was scared that something was wrong, so I stood just outside the door after you asked me to leave the room." I can't even bring my eyes up to look at her. Instead, I keep them fixed on the bowl as I continue to beat the lumps out of the pancake batter.

Leaning in close, she drops her voice a bit and says, "Is that what your problem has been, Jasper? When you found out I was pregnant, did you assume that the baby was Edward's?"

I turn off the mixer, setting it off to the side and look down at the counter, still not able to make eye contact with her.

"Well, that'll teach you to listen in on other people's conversations, then won't it?"

"Bella," Edward cautions, "he just told you that he was concerned for you. Frankly, after the state you arrived in, I'd be worried if Jasper _wasn't_ trying to find out what was going on."

Grateful that he defended me, I finally bring my eyes up to look at Bella, and instead of seeing anger on her face, I see that her expression is laced with embarrassment. Truly, I can't blame her; she's not in the most ideal situation right now.

"Bella, I'm sorry," I start to apologize.

"No, no…don't apologize, Jasper. Keeping the baby a secret would mean that I was ashamed of it, and I'm not. I'm just embarrassed by my lack of judgment, that's all. I planned on telling y'all before too long anyway."

Jacob comes out of the laundry room with a basket full of clothes and asks, "Tell us what?"

Bella toes the grout of the tile in front of her with her shoe and tucks a lock of hair behind her ear. I haven't seen her this nervous since her first day of school, when she moved to Phoenix from Jacksonville to live with her father.

"That...um…that I, uh…I'm having a baby," she responds, looking at her feet.

Jacob raises his eyebrows and shifts the weight of the laundry basket in his arms as he processes this information.

Edward releases me from his embrace and turns to lean his back against the counter beside me as I glance back and forth between Bella and Jacob.

"Well, uh…congratulations?" His statement is more of a question as he follows it by mouthing the words, _It is yours?_ to Edward.

"Christ, can't anyone ask _me_ that question, please? No, Jake, it's not Edward's baby." Clearly, she's aggravated, and I really can't blame her. Lord knows I should have asked her directly.

"Whew! That would certainly put a damper on things now wouldn't it, guys? I mean, no offense, Bells. Still, congratulations, I'm happy for you." In three long strides, he crosses the kitchen and leans down to give Bella a small kiss on the top of her head.

In a deep, grumbling voice, Emmett asks, "What would put a damper on what? What are we celebrating? Are we getting pancakes this morning?"

"Morning, Emmett," Edward says with a beaming smile as he hops up on the counter right next to the mixing bowl.

Emmett is wrapped up in a gigantic blue fleece blanket that drags on the floor and barely allows his face to peek out as he shuffles across the kitchen to the fridge. Pulling out a carton of orange juice, he begins to chug heartily as Edward answers each of his questions,matter-of-factly.

"If Bella had been pregnant with my baby it would have put a damper on me and Jasper seeing each other. We're celebrating the news that Bella's pregnant. Yes, we're getting pancakes." This causes Emmett to spray a mouthful of orange juice across the entire length of the kitchen.

Of course, Emmett already knew that Bella was pregnant because of our conversation yesterday. He's either feigning surprise over Bella's pregnancy for my sake, or he's as shocked as I was to learn that it's not Edward's baby, _or_ he caught on to the subtle hint that Edward and I have crossed the line of friendship into different territory. Of course, it could be all of the above, but it doesn't really matter, since everyone's laughing at Emmett's reaction as he sets down the carton of juice to get something to wipe up the mess he's created.

After the mess is dealt with, he turns to address Bella. "Wow, Bella. Congrats, hon." Emmett clears his throat as he wraps her up in his blanket for a hug. Other than the blanket, he's wearing a pair of blue boxers, and we should probably count ourselves lucky that he's at least wearing those.

"Thank you, Emmett. And I must say, you're incredibly warm, nearly naked, and smell like sex," she responds after pulling out of his embrace. Edward comes dangerously close to falling off the counter top, rolling with laughter, while I almost drop the electric griddle after retrieving it from its place in the cabinet beneath the oven.

"Well, Christ-in-a-circle-jerk! Are Bella and I the only ones who didn't get any last night? Where's the fairness in _that_ shit?" Jacob exclaims, heading up the stairs with his laundry.

Emmett chuckles, asking, "So, Jasper. Do I take that to mean that you and Edward…uh…got some last night?"

I ignore him, coating the griddle in non-stick cooking spray.

From upstairs Jacob yells, "They were fucking like bunnies this morning, Emmett! Don't let them tell you any different!"

As I open my mouth to correct him, Edward shouts up in Jacob's direction, "I didn't fuck him, Jake! If I did, the neighbors would have called the cops in response to all the screaming!"

"_Jesus, _Edward!" I hiss. My skin is on fire from embarrassment.

"Well, I heard plenty of carrying on this morning after I got up to use the restroom. And if Jasper wasn't caterwauling from getting fucked, then Edward must be one goddamned talented guy." Except for Emmett, who is currently wrapping her in his blanket, everyone else in the room stares at Rosalie slack-jawed, either in response to her statement or the fact that Emmett's extensive efforts to get her in his bed finally paid off.

Clearing my throat, I finally manage to say, "Good morning, Rosalie."

She simply wiggles her fingers at me in greeting since her mouth is otherwise occupied with my brother's and I turn to look at Edward, who has resorted to snorting while trying to conceal his laughter.

"What?" he asks.

Smiling at him, I ignore his question, and begin to spoon the pancake batter onto the heated griddle. Edward dips his finger into the mixing bowl, gathering a bit of batter on his finger before bringing it to his mouth and making a grand show of sucking it clean. I'm watching this out of the corner of my eye. If Edward is looking to get some kind of embarrassing reaction out of me, like a groan, then mission accomplished.

"What? The batter's good with all that extra sugar and shit you put in it. You know what would taste _really_ good though?" Edward doesn't wait for my answer before dipping his finger back in the bowl and gathering more batter.

"You know, I'm sure everyone else would appreciate you keeping your hands out of the batter, so…_Jesus!"_ Effectively cutting me off, Edward takes his batter-coated finger and makes a trail on my neck, which he quickly moves in to lick off.

"Oh, get a room, you two!" Bella chides.

"We _had_ a room until someone decided to drag Jasper out to make some fucking pancakes, so excuse _me_ while I enjoy them!" Gathering some more of the batter with his finger, he slides it across my lips before leaning in to kiss me. For a few brief moments, I forget that we're not alone in the kitchen, my entire body throbbing from Edward's electric current. I get lost in the sensation of his soft, full lips moving against mine and the firm flick of his tongue swiping the batter and sliding into my mouth. Grasping the back of his head, I pull him closer and hum in sheer bliss, pouring all of my nervous, and, once again, aroused energy into him. He pulls away from me, panting, as I smile and bite my lip before returning to the task at hand.

Bella chuckles as she gets out plates and silverware, and starts to set the table.

I hear Jacob bound down the steps, returning to the kitchen. After retrieving the butter and syrup from the fridge, he lends Bella a hand with setting the table. Edward hops off the counter, and, once again, wraps his arms around my waist and nuzzles my neck.

Earlier in my bedroom, I had been scared at what Edward was implying when he said that he had wanted me for so long and was addicted to me. On the surface, I can handle the fact that he's lusted after me and is already addicted to my body following our encounters. What I'm not so sure that I can handle is that he was hinting at something much more serious than just a physical relationship, which is all I've ever had up until this point. He likened me heroin of all things. People, once hooked, don't take heroin because they want to—they take it because they need to, feeling that without it, they would die. Is that how he sees me?

Regardless of what this could mean, I'm overwhelmed by the sheer _rightness_ of being in his arms. I've never been able to just melt in a girl's embrace. Actually, I can't recall ever being in a girl's arms, other than during sex and that's always been rushed; a frantic race to the finish line followed by a, "gimme a call some time." Even after being with Alice for two years, we never just held each other. So, it doesn't escape my notice that I've been in Edward's arms several times since just last night, nor does it escape my notice that I find myself eagerly awaiting the next time he wraps himself around me.

As if reading my thoughts, Edward tightens his arms around my waist and practically buries his face in my shoulder, breathing in my scent through my t-shirt. Turning his head slightly, he whispers in my ear, "Is this okay? I realize it may be too late, but I don't want to make you feel uncomfortable. Should I back off?"

Burrowing back against him, "No, please don't. I'm fine." I turn my head to brush my lips against his as he smiles and holds me tighter.

After flipping the first batch of pancakes onto the waiting platter, I hand it off to Jacob, watching him grab four for his plate. Turning back to the griddle, I spoon on more batter while Edward alternates between kissing my shoulder blades and brushing his nose against the back of my neck.

It's not long before I picture this being just us. It's a completely foreign concept to me. I've never once pictured any kind of future, wondering what it would be like if we had a place of our own, with any of my past girlfriends. Foreign or not, it doesn't stop me from imagining this very scenario with Edward, making meals in a kitchen of our own, with his arms around me, telling me about his day, talking about what we wanted to do over the weekend, or what he wanted to do with me once we were done eating. Of course, this line of daydreaming leads me to imagine the two of us making love until we're too exhausted to move.

Making love. That's another foreign concept. Can I see myself loving Edward? I mean, I already love him. We've been best friends since we were toddlers, and have always been tight, but could I love him romantically? You can't make love with someone unless you're in love with them, right? Even sweet, slow sex is just sex unless you love the person.

I'm quickly drawn from my thoughts by Edward's hands slipping beneath the hem of my t-shirt and beginning to play with the drawstring of my gym shorts. The tickling sensation causes me to jump, nearly burning myself on the griddle.

"This griddle's pretty hot, Edward, and you're distracting me," I whisper.

"Want me to take over?"

"You wanna flip pancakes?" He's never offered before, and his question catches me off guard.

"Yeah…outta my way, boy," he says, chuckling as he pulls me from the counter.

Taking the spatula away from me, he takes my place in front of the counter and starts poking at the pancakes. I mirror his previous position by wrapping my arms around his waist, feeling him breathe deep and let it out in a sigh. Of course in doing so, he lets the spatula scrape one of the pancakes and smears it on the griddle.

Laughing, he says, "Oops!"

Laughing right along with him, I rest my chin on his shoulder and give him a lesson on the fine art of flipping pancakes. "You have to wait until the edges bubble up and dry out a bit. Once that happens, you then test it by gently slipping the spatula beneath it. If it lifts up, you can flip it." My tone grows husky, because I'm quickly realizing that as much as I enjoy being in his arms, holding him in mine is just as sweet.

Edward tests a pancake and after lifting it easily, flips it. Clearly pleased with himself, he punches the air with his other hand and shouts, "Score!"

While we both laugh at his new found success, Jacob grumbles around a mouthful, "Don't you let your boyfriend fuck up my pancakes, Jazz."

Pausing briefly, I wonder if I'm comfortable with the idea of having a boyfriend. All this shit lately has been so overwhelming and before I make myself an anxious mess, I turn my head to address Jacob.

"Don't you worry, Jake. Your pancakes are in very good hands," I respond with a wink.

Almost under his breath he snorts in response, "I certainly hope he _washed_ those hands."

"Back up," Edward whispers to me. Doing as he asks, I let him go and watch him grab an egg from the carton on the counter and whip around to chuck it in Jacob's direction. He nails his target right in the forehead with a victorious _splat! _Before Jacob can react, Edward darts around me and makes a beeline for the living room, hopping over the couch that has its back to the doorway.

"Oh, I'm gonna fuck you up, you little shit," Jacob shouts, laughing as he jumps up from the table and takes off after Edward.

Edward's not a short guy by any means; he's a bit over six feet tall. Jacob, however, is several inches taller than him, and is certainly a force to be reckoned with. I briefly feel a wave of concern for Edward's safety, watching Jacob launch his massive frame over the back of the couch and tackle Edward to the ground.

"What now, fuckstick?" he asks when he has Edward pinned beneath him. "You're not so slick now that you're not armed with eggs are ya?"

To everyone's amazement, Edward wriggles free and gets up into a crouching position. Jacob matches his stance and darts at him in an attempt to take him down again, just before Edward drops to the floor, sweeping out his leg and knocking Jacob's feet out from under him.

They're both cackling hysterically as Edward succeeds in pinning Jacob beneath him, holding him immobile with his knees pressed into Jacob's hips and holding his hands above his head. "Look at that, Jake. Bet you never thought you'd be swept off your feet by a guy now, did ya?"

"Fuck you!" Jacob responds, snickering.

"Who's yer Daddy, Jake?"

Lifting his head off the floor to get right in Edward's face, Jacob growls, "Billy Black, bitch!"

"Now you know the correct answer to that question is, 'Edward Masen's my Daddy.' Am I right? Come on. You can admit it."

Jacob's trying his damnedest to get free of Edward's grip but, amazingly enough, he can't.

"Let me up, fucker!" Jacob's still laughing.

Shaking his head, Edward switches his hand position so he can hold both of Jacob's wrists in one hand. "Just one thing, first. Wet Willie!" Edward sucks one of his fingers into his mouth and after pulling it out of with a loud, 'pop', sticks it in Jacob's ear.

"Asshole! Get the hell off of me!" he shouts, finally successful in pushing Edward off of him.

Making their way back to the kitchen, Jacob wraps his arm around Edward's neck and uses his other hand to dig his knuckles in Edward's hair, giving him a noogie.

I had taken over flipping the pancakes, not wanting them to scorch while Edward and Jacob had it out in the living room. As I start spooning more batter onto the griddle, Edward slips between me and the counter to take his previous spot. "Now, where were we?" he asks, taking the serving spoon from me and dipping it into the bowl. My arms immediately wrap around his waist, and I bury my nose in his neck, inhaling his scent—shampoo, body wash, and sweat—deep into my lungs. Neither one of us is paying any attention, which causes Edward to succeed in slopping some batter onto the griddle, creating a mutant Mickey Mouse shaped pancake. "Well, _shit_," he says chuckling.

Eventually, the rest of the batter makes it onto the griddle and finally ends up on the platter in some semblance of breakfast. Rosalie, apparently born without any shame, eats her pancakes while sitting in Emmett's lap. Edward has his chair situated close to me with one of his legs hooked around mine. Otherwise, we're behaving ourselves. Bella seems to have lost her appetite watching Jacob demolish another stack of pancakes.

"I don't understand how you can just wolf that down and not have it come right back up. Are you even chewing?"

He answers her by opening his mouth and sticking out his tongue, showing her a mouthful of completely masticated pancake mush, which immediately makes the poor girl turn green.

"Oh Christ, I'm sorry, Bella," he mumbles through his food, covering his mouth.

"I think I'm just gonna go lie down for a bit," Bella remarks, leaving the table and bringing her plate to the sink.

"Smooth move, fucker," Emmett scoffs.

Once Bella leaves, Rosalie says, "So, I'm curious."

_Oh great, here we go._

"Just the other night, I saw you with some chick, who wasn't Alice, and now you and Edward are all lovey dovey this morning. Mind you, he's still not Alice. So, that begs the question: What the hell is going on?"

"Wow, Rosalie. You don't have a fucking tactful bone in your entire body, do you?" I scoff.

"Nope! Not a one."

I guess I have to give her some amount of credit for speaking her mind. Most people would just be content to look on, speculate, and start rumors surrounding their theories. Rosalie would rather get the story straight from the horse's mouth.

"Well, if you want the God's honest truth, Alice and I were never really a couple. We were fuck buddies, nothing more. Right now, we're nothing at all. The girl that was with me the other night at the restaurant was Claire. We met that night and we're friends. Nothing more. Edward and I have been best friends since we were babies, and right now, we're…um…I don't know what you'd call it." I follow my half-assed statement with a forkful of pancakes, hoping that explanation is enough for her.

And, of course, it isn't.

"Fuck buddies? Boyfriends? Lovers? Friends with benefits?"

Dropping my fork to my plate, I prepare to let her have it before Edward interrupts. "Rose, Jasper and I are still in the process of coming to terms with certain things. I'd appreciate it if you didn't try to trivialize what is or isn't going on between us. Furthermore, I'm sure I can speak for Jasper when I say that I'd also appreciate it if you didn't go running your mouth about something we're not even sure of in the first place, if you catch my drift."

Rosalie nods her head. "Fair enough."

"If you don't mind me asking though, how long have you been into guys? Is this an all-of-a-sudden thing?" She looks at both of us.

"Rose!" Emmett hisses.

"What? I'm curious. They have the right to tell me to fuck off if they want." She follows her statement with a raised eyebrow, silently asking if the question is okay.

Edward sits back in his chair and clears his throat. "Well, I discovered I was bisexual several years ago when I was still in high school. However, I've been into guys for as long as I can remember."

I almost miss the second part of his statement while taking a drink of my orange juice. As the weight of his words sink in, I practically choke.

Rosalie simply nods in response and neither Emmett nor Jacob say a word.

One more thing I have failed to realize.

Turning to me, she asks, "What about you?"

I imagine I'm giving her a look that resembles a deer caught in the headlights, and I can't force out any words. After several moments of opening and closing my mouth, I finally manage to simply excuse myself from the table.

Completely ignoring her, I turn to Jacob and ask, "You've got clean up, right?" I don't even wait for his answer before I bolt up the stairs to my room.

Edward immediately follows and shuts the door to my bedroom behind him, leaning against it.

"Jasper?"

I can't answer him. The only thing I can do is take deep breaths, pace back and forth in front of him, and try to calm myself down.

After several long moments, Edward speaks again. "Please, Jasper. Talk to me."

Letting out a deep breath, I finally ask, "How long?"

"How long what?"

"You told me that you've wanted me for so long. You just told Rosalie down there that you've been into guys for as long as you can remember. So tell me, how long?"

He closes his eyes and lets out a shuddering breath before responding. "I realized that what I felt for you was more than simple friendship when I was ten. When we camped out in your backyard that time, and Jacob played that prank on us, remember?"

Thinking back, I do recall that night. Jacob and Emmett climbed a tree in the middle of the night while Edward and I were asleep in our sleeping bags. Jacob started howling like a wolf, frightened the shit out of the both of us, and Edward ended up sharing my sleeping bag because he was afraid to continue camping outside, even after we realized it was all a joke.

"You holding me in your arms, it just felt right, you know?" His voice begins to waiver, and I stop pacing to look at him.

Of course, I know. I was thinking that very thing while we were in the kitchen. However, there is one thing that's bothering me a great deal.

"How come you never said anything, Edward?"

Sliding against the door, he sits down on the floor. "I felt like a freak. I knew I was different, and you know what kind of people my parents are. Hell, your father's family is the same way."

It's true. My father, Jebediah Whitlock, was raised to believe homosexuals were deviants. I never met the man since he died while my mother was pregnant, but I was around his parents and siblings enough to know what they believed. My mother, Esme, met and married Emmett's father, Carlisle soon after I was born. Luckily for me, my mother judges a person by their character, not by the color of their skin, their religious background, or who they love. I'm also lucky in the respect that, Carlisle believes the same things. I'm proud to call him my father.

"The blood that flows through my veins may be Whitlock's, but that's not what I believe and you know it. You didn't hide this from Emmett or Jacob, why hide it from me?"

"I was gonna tell you. I planned to that summer you went to stay at your grandparents' ranch right before our sophomore year, but I lost my nerve. It just so happened that someone else suspected that I had feelings for you, which weren't purely platonic, and it resulted in…um…a pretty nasty fight."

_He got in a fight?_ _Because of _me_?_

"How nasty of a fight, Edward?" Anything I was feeling earlier is now clouded with anger at the thought that someone hurt him because of me.

"Nasty enough to land me in the E.R. Jacob and Emmett took care of me, and they demanded to know what happened, so I told them."

_Christ! _

"And why the _fuck_ didn't _they_ tell me?" I'm beyond pissed now.

"I begged them not to. The guy I got in the fight with said that I should be punished because I was nothing more than a dirty faggot, and that loving you would only taint you. I made them swear they wouldn't say anything…"

I fall to my knees in front of him as he continues to stammer, clasping his face in my hands.

"Edward, stop. Please. You believed this guy? That you would _taint_ me?" My heart breaks watching his body crumple before me.

"God help me, Jasper, I believed every word. I was scared, and I couldn't defend myself, and I was terrified that you'd never want to speak to me again—"

Cutting him off, I kiss him desperately and he immediately scrambles into my lap, clinging to me like his life depends on it. This kiss isn't lustful like the ones we've shared up until now. This one is necessary, like fucking air, and I'm reluctant to ever break away. He claws at my t-shirt trying to pull me ever closer and my fingers dig into his back, surely marking his skin. His hands move up to my hair, nails scratching into my scalp while I rock us in place on the floor. Each whimper against my lips, bruised from our frantic kiss, causes a slight fissure in my heart, which continues to break for him.

Some bigoted son of a bitch beat the shit out of my friend because of me; sent him to the emergency room, and made him believe that because he wanted to be with me, that he'd taint me—that loving me was wrong.

_Christ, he loved me and I wasn't_ _there for him. _

"Edward, I'm sorry…" I whisper against his lips.

Edward pulls away from our kiss and presses his forehead against mine. "Jasper, you have nothing to be sorry for. You did nothing wrong. I want to put that shit behind me once and for all and look ahead, ya know?"

I nod my head in response, and pull him tighter against me.

"Jasper, you don't have to love me back, I just wanna love you. Please, just let me love you," he whispers, pressing his lips to mine once more.

Tears fall from my eyes and glide down my cheeks as I think of how stupid I've been. How blind I've been not to see what Edward's been dealing with for years. The fact that he suffered physical abuse because of the way he felt about me, and yet, here I was, worrying myself over being in something resembling a serious relationship because it was out of my element. How selfish of me to think that I have it hard trying to deal with unfamiliar feelings while this whole time, Edward's been in his own personal hell with nobody to help him make sense of anything.

And all he wants to do is love me.

I'm a pussy for being scared of that.

I don't have much to give, but I swear to myself at this moment, that whatever I have, I'll give it to him freely.

"Edward. Edward, I…I think I…"

With his lips still against mine, he shushes me, shaking his head. He doesn't want to hear the words.

_Edward, I love you._

* * *

**A/N Thank you for reading! :D**


	15. Beautiful

**A/N SM owns the Twilight Saga, its characters and everything else. I merely own the laptop on which I wrote this. Thanks go to the awesomeness that is Zigster for betaing this chapter**. ***foozles senseless***

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It's been just over a week since our discussion. Just over a week since Edward told me that he loved me. Just over a week since I realized that I feel the same way. Just over _one_ week since I started feeling like a gushy fricken girl over the fact that I now have a boyfriend.

I have a boyfriend.

Edward is my boyfriend.

Well, he didn't come right out and say it, but I'm _pretty_ sure we've crossed over into boyfriend territory. I mean, after everything that's happened, it would be a pretty safe assumption.

Walking down the hall, I come to a sudden stop, and ask myself, _Where the fuck am I going?_

Ahh, yes. It's exam time.

_Two down, one to go._

I'm pretty confident that I did well on my Psych and Chem finals yesterday. I wasn't expecting perfect scores or anything, but I studied my ass off, so I'm feeling pretty good. Today is my Creative Writing final. Our only hint as to the content is that it will focus on descriptive writing. I can be pretty damn descriptive, so this should be a piece of cake, right?

Well, I'm already having trouble concentrating.

Why? Emmett and Jacob each have a final this afternoon, so they won't be home. Bella is at her father's house. Edward had his last final at the ass crack of dawn this morning, and he _is_ at home right now.

Alone.

When I'm done here, I will be heading home.

We'll both be home alone together.

So, right now my mind is on one thing. And it has nothing to do with writing.

I jump when I feel my cell phone buzz just outside the classroom door. After pulling it from my jeans pocket, I see that I have a text from Edward.

_Good luck, Jazz. I know you'll be brilliant._

I can imagine that I look like a love-struck fool because I can't help but grin at his message before I type out a reply.

_Thanks! ;) What are you doing now that you have the whole place to yourself?_

A moment later, my phone comes to life.

_Jake is heading out the door as we speak. I'm about to set the MP3 player to shuffle and beat the shit out of Bob._

I frown at that. I thought he was in a pretty good mood this morning. After all, I did my best to send him off to his exam with a big ass smile on his face.

_What happened?_

I'm almost scared to get his answer, but sigh with relief instead.

_Nothing! I have some excess energy to burn. It's either Tae-Kwon-Do or jerk off to porn. Frankly, I'd rather save up *that* energy for when you get home ;)_

Aaaand the concentration is officially gone.

Sitting in the classroom, waiting for Ms. Denali to arrive, I can't stop my knee from its nervous bouncing. I'm anxious to get this exam over with, and even more anxious to get home to Edward. I want to be in his arms, in his bed. I want his face in my neck and his lips on my throat as he murmurs, "I love you." I want to feel the muscles in his belly flex beneath my fingers as I—

"Good morning! Are we all ready to get this show on the road?"

"Yesss," I hiss as I stop my knee from bouncing, and switch to tapping the desk with my pen.

Getting no other response from her students, Ms. Denali claps her hands together and hops on up on her desk, facing us. "Great! Does everyone have their booklets? If you don't, I have a few right here," she says, holding up a stack of blue test booklets, "at only a cost of ten points off your exam score." Looking around the room and getting no takers, she announces, "Okay! Let's get started! As we discussed last week, this exam will focus on description. The goal is to write a piece, no less than 1000 words, that engages all the senses. How something looks, sounds, feels, smells, and tastes. I want to be able to experience what you're writing. So, without further ado, write me something beautiful. And by that, I mean the subject for your final piece this semester is beauty. You guys are getting off so eas—"

"Oh, my God. I am _not_ writing about a flower, Ms. Denali," a voice crows from the back.

Chuckling, she answers, "Mr. Yorkie, beauty means different things to different people. I want you to write about something that _you_ find beautiful. Whether it's a rose in full bloom, or an Alienware Aurora ALX with an Intel Core i7 980 Extreme 6 Core processor—"

She's interrupted by a throaty groan and Yorkie saying, "That's not beautiful, Ms. D. That's just straight up porn!"

After the laughter dies down, Ms. Denali continues with her instructions. "I want you to write about a scene from your favorite movie, describe a bride on her wedding day, tell me about your first bicycle, tell me about your lover. Just keep it tasteful. Nothing violent, or pornographic. The moment bodily fluids enter the picture, it's no longer appropriate for the classroom." Casting her eyes at me, she adds, "So, no teeth sinking into the arteries of helpless victims, Jasper."

"Hey, that's beautiful! And that's also censorship, Ms. D!" I jab, snickering.

"Does sweat count?" a girl sitting in front of me asks.

Giving us all a smirk in reply, she then announces, "Use your judgment, please. Okay! Hop to it!"

So, I'm supposed to write about something beautiful? As tempting as it is to challenge Ms. Denali on the idea of writing a piece about a vampire feeding off the artery of a young, lithe, fragile, little human, I realize it won't matter since that's the very subject matter I've been stuck on lately. Roughly six months ago, I began writing a tale of vampires; a coven of ageless, beautiful creatures, who survive off of the blood of unsuspecting human prey, and frequently do battle with a neighboring pack of werewolves. I haven't been able to write shit for this particular story in over a month, and today will certainly be no different, I'm sure.

And here I sit, staring at my test booklet. The faint, pink lines inviting me to fill them with something beautiful. I have nothing. Aside from the fact that it hasn't even been two minutes since we were given the go ahead to begin writing, and I'm already flailing, my mind can only think of one thing. My pulse beats out a single mantra:

_Edward._

_Edward._

_Edward._

_Edward's eyes, his lips, his beautiful skin._

_Beautiful._

_Edward is beautiful. I can write about Edward, can't I?_

I glance up at Ms. Denali, now sitting in her chair behind her desk. She raises her eyebrow and gives me a quick smile.

What would she think if I wrote my final piece on Edward? Do I want her to know that I find Edward beautiful? Would she insult me or dock me points for being perverted? I have no doubt that I can keep my writing tasteful, but too many people equate admiring the same sex as a perversion. Would she be one of those people?

Deciding that I need to come up with _something_, I put my pen to paper and get to work.

_Pale, ivory skin stains a bashful raspberry, filling cheeks and jaw, blooming into the throat. Eyes, the color of spearmint, star burst with amber at their center; they darken below lids lowered with desire when fixed upon me. Lips, red, succulent, cherry fullness part to whisper promises of love, tickling my ear and warming my skin. Hair, thick, messy, auburn waves flecked with gold, reflect the unforgiving sun, giving off an aura of brilliance._

_Stretched long and lean on the mattress, firm, toned muscles beckon to me, calling my name, pleading for my attention. Heated flesh smells faintly of sweat, spicy, musky, virile, wrenching a growl from my throat as I inhale deep._

_My tongue darts out to capture a singular drop of salty perspiration beaded above an inverted navel. My lover gasps as the tiny little hairs surrounding the center of my attention stand on end, as goose bumps prickle the perfect skin. Skin so warm and flawless beneath my fingers that trail up, slowly, leaving a wake of twitching muscles and gooseflesh. _

_Leaning forward, my lips find a throbbing artery in a long, graceful neck. Kissing hungrily, the vessel pounds with excitement, pulsing for me. My hand slips down, caressing a bare hip, eliciting a stuttered breath from my lover's lips, sighing my name, begging me, "please". Continuing down, I stroke a firm thigh, squeezing the defined muscle._

_A thick, silky voice moans my name, imploring me to touch, taste, consume._

_Freckles, dots of milk chocolate sprinkle an inner thigh, and my finger traces paths between them, as I delight in watching legs jerk and a warm hand slip down to cover my own. A keening whine flutters to my ears when I refuse to let my hand slide to the apex of these muscular thighs. _

Pulling back from the paper, I mutter, "Holy shit!" I just wrote over 300 words without even thinking about it. Not willing to let this go, I duck my head back down and continue to furiously scribble words into my booklet, extolling the beauty of my boyfriend.

I'm writing again. And I'm writing about Edward. And it's so amazingly easy, I just want to jump up and scream in delight. Instead, I quickly crank out some more of Edward's praises before rereading my piece at least a dozen times and making necessary corrections.

Being the first to complete the task, I have to stifle the urge to skip up to Ms. Denali's desk to hand her my booklet. She looks up at me in surprise and raises her eyebrows.

"You're already finished, Jasper?" she whispers.

"Yes, ma'am," I whisper back, handing her the booklet.

"May I read it now?"

I cringe at her question and ask one of my own. "Mind waiting till I leave, first?"

"Not at all," she chuckles. "Now go on and get out of here. Have a great summer, Jasper."

"You have a great summer as well, ma'am. Thank you," I reply and quickly duck out of the room.

I'm still on such a high from my mini breakthrough when I get home, that I almost forget Edward is most likely upstairs waiting on me. I take the steps two at time, a huge smile on my face as I quickly make my way to Edward's bedroom.

Entering the room, I see Edward sprawled out on his bed, face down. He's wearing nothing, save for a pair of red boxers. I smirk, remembering the last time I saw him wearing those very boxers. Sighing, I'm torn between wanting to wake him up and letting him sleep. He had to be up really early this morning for his exam, and after a workout with Bob, I know he has to be tired. Still, he looks awfully tempting lying there like that. The curve of his back, the soft skin stretched tight over his lean muscles...all of it begs for me to touch with my fingers, my body, my mouth.

Stripping down to my boxers, I stealthily climb into bed with Edward until I'm hovering above him, holding my breath as I reach out with one hand to tickle my fingers down is back. His muscles twitch beneath my touch and I smile at the rush of gooseflesh created in their wake as Edward hitches in a breath, his eyes remaining closed. Leaning forward, I plant a soft kiss on one of the dimples on his lower back, right above the waistband of his boxers. A hiss draws through Edward's teeth as his shoulders and hips tilt off the bed, and a groan escapes as I trace the skin above his waistband with my tongue, pressing my tongue ring into his flesh.

"Edward, I want you," I whisper against his back, leaving feather-soft kisses across his skin.

He groans, still asleep,as I climb on top of him, aligning my hips with his, nestling my erection right between his two perfect cheeks.

He's made it quite clear that he wants to top me, and I'm okay with that. But right now, I'm overcome with the need to take him just like this. I wonder what he would think of that.

As I slide a hand up his back, his hips tilt just a bit more until his ass is pressing against me, the pressure is almost painful as I lean forward and gasp into his neck.

"Edward," I breathe, pressing myself against him.

Before I can even blink, Edward mutters, "fuck!" and flips over on to his back before rolling us over. Once on top of me, he pins me into the mattress and his eyes frantically search mine.

"Jesus, Jazz! I thought...I didn't know...shit!" he pants, dropping his head to hang between his shoulders.

"I'm sorry, I should have woken you up first, I didn't mean to scare you," I say, my voice barely above a whisper.

Edward rolls off of me and his chest heaves as he struggles to catch his breath.

"Baby, I'm so—"

"It's okay, really. You just caught me off guard, that's all."

Taking his hand, I bring it to my mouth, kissing each of his fingers.

"Mmmm..." he hums, as his eyes drift closed.

"Does this mean you're not interested in bottoming?" I ask with a chuckle.

His eyes snap open and I watch his Adam's apple bob as he swallows hard before looking at me. After a couple moments of awkward silence, the corner of his mouth turns up into a smirk as he rolls back on top of me, once again pinning me into the mattress.

"Do you have any idea what it does to me, seeing you beneath me like this?"

I bite my lip to stifle a groan at the husky sound of his voice before answering, "I don't know. Enlighten me."

He captures my mouth in a hungry kiss just as he rolls his hips into me, sliding his erection against mine, and I'm taken right back to that day in the basement.

"Jesus, Edward..._fuck!_" I cry, after wrenching my mouth from his.

"Feels so good, baby," he murmurs into my shoulder, grazing my collarbone with his teeth.

With a mind of their own, my hips begin to buck wildly against Edward's, desperately seeking his friction as he gives it. His lips, tongue, and teeth are working every inch of my neck, my jaw, my shoulders, causing me to groan and holler as I'm pushed further to the brink of delirium.

Before the thought is even complete in my head, I'm growling, "Edward, I want you. I want you to fuck me, _please_!"

He growls back in response against my neck before pulling back to look at me.

"Jasper, I want to. God knows I want to, but if I fuck you right now, I'll hurt you."

"Godammit hurt me!" I hiss. "I _need _you, _please!"_

I lift my head off the bed, seeking his mouth. He denies me, and instead, flips me over like a fucking rag doll, and immediately mimics my earlier position, his hard cock pressing against my ass. My hips automatically rise off the mattress as I try to get onto all fours so I can rock back against him. I'm only half successful as he uses one hand to pull my hips back to press into his, and he uses his other to push my upper body back into the mattress, nearly smothering me as my face is buried in the pillow.

Tilting his hips, he runs the entire length of his erection between my cheeks, and I reflexively spread my legs to better accommodate him.

"Shit, Jasper. You're so fucking sexy like this."

Anything I would have said in response is cut off by a firm slap of his hand, right before he squeezes a handful of my flesh.

"Oh, God," I moan, pushing back into him.

I feel him lean over me, reaching off to the side of the bed. When I hear objects rattling about, I realize he's rummaging through the drawer of his bedside table.

_Holy shit! This is it! He's really gonna do it!_

My heart is pounding so hard, I fear it will burst, and I finally pull my face free from the pillow to take a much needed breath. I gasp when he yanks my boxers down to my knees, and I groan when I hear the snap of the bottle top open. Apparently I have begun to hyperventilate, because Edward murmurs, "Deep breaths, Jasper. Don't want you passing out on me."

I simply nod and attempt to breathe deep, but end up holding my breath when I feel a cool, slick digit circling right where I want him most. My face presses back into the pillow when I feel him push inside me.

"Fuck," I whimper. It's slightly uncomfortable, but the new sensation is so intense, I begin to see bright lights popping behind my eyelids. It's then when I realize I'm still holding my breath, and I try my best to breathe slow and steady.

He's started rhythmically pushing in and drawing out, and I find myself automatically rocking back to meet his hand. I whimper again when he adds a second finger and my hand is itching to reach back and start stroking myself. I ignore that need because I just know that a few strokes will shove me over the edge.

Just as I'm getting used to two of Edward's fingers inside me, he slowly twists his hand until his palm is facing the mattress and his fingers are pressing down instead of up. Instead of continuing his previous rhythm, his fingertips begin to circle, as if searching for someth—

"_Oh my GOD!"_ I scream into the pillow.

"There it is," Edward chuckles.

My entire body begins to jerk as he starts concentrating on that singular spot inside me, stroking with his fingertips, driving me fucking crazy.

Picking my head up, I look back over my shoulder and see a stern look of concentration on Edward's face, biting his bottom lip, furrowing his brow. My eyebrow raises on its own as I watch Edward grab for the bottle of lube, crack the sucker open again one handed and pour some into his palm.

Fucking talent right there. Not to mention that he managed to snap it back closed by smacking the rounded top shut against my ass. I can't help but snicker at the display, and Edward, still biting his lip, snorts as he notices the humor in the situation.

My snicker quickly draws out into a groan as he wraps his now slick hand around my cock and begins to pump in a counter motion with the probing rhythm of his fingers.

I immediately shove my face back into the pillow and scream as I rock back against his hands.

"Get your face out of that pillow, Jazz. Nobody's home and I wanna hear you," he commands.

Doing as I'm told, I turn my face to the side, and a long stream of muttered expletives slide from my mouth as he works me.

"Oh yeah...fucking _right there_...just like that...Christ, _fuck _that feels good!"

He begins to pick up the pace and I feel my orgasm tighten in my gut.

"Jesus, Edward. I'm gonna..._shit_...gonna come. I don't wanna come yet..."

I feel the soft brush of his lips against my ass as he murmurs, "That's the point, Jazz. I want you to. Come for me, love."

My muscles begin to twitch all over, and I'm bucking furiously against his hands as I shout, "Fuck, fuck _fuck!_ Oh my God!"

The slick sound of his hand sliding back and forth across my erection becomes more pronounced as I shoot into his grip and onto the bed. He's stopped rubbing against my prostate, which, in turn, has calmed down the jerking of my hips as I pant heavily into the pillow.

My mind is going in a million different directions, amazed at how Edward plays my body like a fucking fiddle, how what he just did was the most amazing thing I've ever felt, how much better it's going to feel when he replaces his fingers with his c—

"What the fuck, Edward?" I ask as he collapses on the bed beside me.

"Mmhmm?" he hums with a smile, his eyes slipping closed.

"I...I thought...you..." I whisper, a little dejected.

"I told you," he replies, "I don't wanna hurt you."

I quickly sit up to pull my boxers back into place, and curse under my breath at the fact that I just spread some orgasmic mess in the fabric.

"You're not gonna break me, Edward," I say, climbing on top of him.

"I don't want our first time together to be frantic or rushed. You'll end up getting hurt that way, and I can't risk that. You're too important to me."

I sigh before leaning down to kiss him. Just as my tongue enters his mouth, his hips lift off the mattress, pressing into my still sensitive cock, and I pull back with a hiss.

"Sorry," he chuckles.

"And what shall we do with this?" I ask, glancing in the direction of his groin.

He just shrugs with a smirk and kisses me again.

Making up my mind, I return his smirk and say, "I have an idea."

I slide down his body, hooking my fingers into the waistband of his red boxers, and jerk them down before tossing them off the bed.

"Jazz, you don't have to do..._oh, fuck_!"

I'm amazed at how flexible Edward is as his back completely arches off the mattress. And all from a simple lick up the length of his erection.

"So, was that a good 'oh, fuck', or a bad 'oh, fuck'?" I ask before kissing the deep rosy head of his cock.

When his body resumes its previous position on the bed, I drag my tongue up his length again, this time, a little firmer.

"Sweet Jesus, baby...don't stop!"

_Fuckin-A!_

Knowing what feels good to me, I waste no time in tracing the outer ridge of the head of his cock with my tongue, making sure to put the little ball bearing on my tongue to good use.

And there goes Edward's back, just ah-archin' off the bed again. I'm sure the smile on my face is smug as hell, but I think I deserve to be a little smug since this is the first time my mouth has ever been this close to a dick.

Edward's back finally drops back down to the mattress, and he lifts his head up to look at me, and I'll be damned if I'm not gonna give him a show.

After giving him an extra long lick up the length of his cock, and feeling his legs twitch beneath me, I kiss his slit, smirking as he watches me. Keeping my eyes locked with his, I part my lips and take just the head of his cock into my mouth, sucking hard as I lave the crown with my tongue.

The taste of his skin is not like I expected. He's musky, but definitely not like a woman. A little earthier, saltier, and the swollen skin feels so fucking hot in my mouth. Inadvertently letting him know how much I love his taste, I hum around his dick.

"Mmmm..."

"_Fuck_, that feels good, baby. Suck me."

Still maintaining eye contact, I slide my lips down the length of his cock. A little too fast, I realize when he all too soon hits my throat, and I have to pull back, choking.

With a knowing chuckle, Edward says, "Easy there, John Wayne."

"Fuck you," I retort with a grin, before making a second attempt to swallow him. No matter how much I relax, or try to concentrate on breathing through my nose, though, I'm not able to take in his entire length. Edward certainly isn't complaining, however, as he cries out when I bring my mouth back up to the head.

"Is this okay?" I ask, just making sure I'm not making him uncomfortable.

"Okay? _Okay_? Your mouth is fucking amazing, Jasper. Please, don't stop," he groans.

I resume my task, but instead of trying to deep throat him, I wrap my fist around the base and start to stroke him in time with the movements of my mouth.

For me, the more audible the blow job, the better, and I make no attempt to conceal the wet, sucking noises I make each time my lips slide up to his head. Hollowing my cheeks, the sounds become more distinct, borderline pornographic, and much to my delight, Edward's fingers tangle in my hair as he grunts, "Fuck yeah, just like that. Fucking perfect. Suck me so good, baby."

I continue to bob my head, increasing the tempo as his hips begin to rhythmically lift off the bed to meet my mouth. The tangy taste of his pre-cum drifts across my tongue, and I can't contain the moan that vibrates around Edward's cock.

It becomes evident that I've gotten ahead of myself with my enthusiasm as my jaw begins to ache and my lips are tingling.

_Christ, my oral stamina sucks!_

Before I can laugh at my own pun, I pull my mouth off his cock and begin to flutter my tongue just beneath the head along his frenulum, and his hips start thrusting up toward my mouth. His jaw is dropped, and he's panting wildly, while he continues to watch me. I've begun rapidly jerking him off while I continue to tease the underside of his cock, and the only sound coming from Edward is his frantic breathing.

I'm surprised with how deep my voice sounds as I ask him, "You wanna come in my mouth, baby?" My free hand slips between his legs to caress his balls, and feeling them tight beneath his velvet skin, I know he's close.

"Oh fuck," is his whimpered response, and that is all the answer I need as I get back to work, sucking him as far into my mouth as I can, slurping his rigid flesh, and trying desperately to wring his orgasm free from his body.

"Shit...shit, Jasper...baby, I'm...oh my _fuck_, I'm coming!" he yells, as his fingers tighten painfully in my hair and his body tenses beneath me. When I feel the first jet of cum shoot in my mouth, I automatically swallow before the taste registers in my brain. The next couple of spurts cause me to back off him, the taste overwhelming me and I have to refrain from choking.

"Oh, my God that's bitter," I murmur, before I realize that I just insulted him.

I'm relieved, however, when Edward half sighs, half snickers and he whispers, "Acquired taste, remember?"

I can't help but snicker with him as I try to swallow the taste out of my mouth.

"Come here, baby," he says with a smile, motioning for me to come closer.

I crawl up beside him and he pulls me in for a deep kiss, his tongue chasing his essence inside my mouth, and I feel my cock begin to swell again.

Pulling away from him, I have to get reassurance that I've done a satisfactory job.

"Was it good?"

Leaning against the pillow, Edward answers, "That was, without a fucking doubt, the most incredible blow job I've ever received." He bites his bottom lip and closes his eyes just as I sit up next to him.

"You have got to be shitting me, Edward. Are you serious?"

_He's just buttering me up, I know it._

"As a fucking heart attack. It's like your mouth was made just for me. You automatically knew what I wanted, and I didn't even have to tell you. Fucking incredible," he sighs.

I blink at him several times, dumbstruck by his words.

"And that tongue ring? Jesus fucking Christ, Jasper, I had no fucking clue it would feel _that_ good."

Finally opening his eyes to look at me, he asks, "What?"

"That was my very first blow job and you're telling me that it's best _you've_ ever had. How many blow jobs have you had, exactly?" I ask with a skeptical chuckle.

His eyes drift around in thought. "I can't even think of a figure, but it doesn't matter. Every single one pales in comparison, drops off the radar completely."

"What about Bella? You've always said—"

"Even Bella," he answers matter-of-factly.

"Mike?"

With a hearty laugh, he replies, "E_specially_ Mike! I had to imagine it was you to even get hard enough to keep him from losing interest." He pauses a moment before continuing. "You _know_ me, Jasper. I mean, you don't even have to try. And the fact that I only ever wanted it to be you. I never wanted it so bad. You make everything so much better."

My skin heats up at his words, and I know I'm blushing. Drawing my feet close to my body, I rest my chin on my knees.

"About Mike. If you weren't interested in him, why did you even bother?"

Edward sighs and takes several moments before answering. "He was a catalyst in a sense. A kinda-sorta cute catalyst with mediocre oral skills. Anyway, Alice was pestering me to say something to you. She knew I had feelings for you. Hell, everyone knew. I only tried to rein in my feelings around you because I couldn't stand the thought of you rejecting me again. I thought if I was gonna lay it all out on the line, I might as well try to have some fun with it. If you took me up on my offer, we'd move forward. If you flipped out," he pauses raising an eyebrow at me, "I'd just brush it all off as joke. I didn't get the chance to do that, as you well know."

I internally berate myself for reacting the way I had that day, lamenting over the fact that I could have handled that situation so much better, and saved us all a shitload of grief in the meantime.

"Alice suggested that you bring Mike home and propose a threesome?" I ask, incredulously.

"No, that was just my asinine idea. She just told me to man up and be straight with you...so to speak."

Dragging my hand across my face, a part of his earlier statement registers with me.

"What do you mean that you couldn't stand the thought of me rejecting you _again_? When did I ever reject you?"

"The morning after graduation. At my house."

"I...how? I don't understand."

"You came over the night before, drunk, after attending Stanley's party. You just got your tattoo and you wanted to show me."

Covering my mouth with my hand, I gape at him. "Oh my God, that really happened!" My words are muffled, but Edward understands me, apparently, as he nods.

"Christ, Edward. I thought that was all a dream. You touched me...we almost kissed...that really happened? I thought I dreamed it all, and I was so fucking embarrassed. I was sure y'all would think I was some kind of freak."

Edward winces at that word.

"Shit, I didn't mean...dammit," I groan, dragging my hand through my hair. "I just wish you would have said something."

"Likewise," he sighs.

I lean in to kiss him just as he interrupts me with an epic yawn, and, since that shit's contagious, I'm yawning now, too.

Crawling down to the foot of the bed, I grasp the comforter that had been kicked to the edge and pull it up to cover us both up.

"Ugh. We need to strip the bed, Edward," I groan, feeling the wet spot in the sheets courtesy of _moi_.

"Later. Suck it up. You'll forget about it in ten minutes. I just wanna take a nap," he murmurs, pulling me into his chest.

"You have any plans this afternoon?" I ask.

"Nope. I have nowhere to be until I take the Volvo to the shop tomorrow to have it serviced."

"What's wrong with it?"

"Nothing, just routine stuff. That and Bella is going back to her mother's place in Jacksonville, and since her truck has officially kicked the bucket, I've offered to drive her. We're meeting her mother halfway in San Antonio."

"That's a hell of a drive. If she doesn't have to worry about taking her truck back, why doesn't she just fly?"

"I offered to pay for her ticket, but she's terrified of flying. She prefers driving on the open road."

"Huh," I reply. "So, how long will you be gone?"

"A week, give or take a few days."

"You'll be gone a week?" I ask, embarrassed at the hint of a whine in my tone.

Edward chuckles. "Well, I _did _have a question for you."

"What's that?"

"How would you feel about a road trip?**"**

* * *

**A/N I apologize for the delays in updating. RL interrupts my fun time and unfortunately, I don't see a break on the horizon. I also have work that takes precedence over pretty much every thing else, so I can only ask for you to bear with me. Thanks for reading. :)**


	16. Time to Panic

**A/N SM owns the Twilight Saga, its characters and everything else. I merely own the laptop on which I wrote this. Thanks go to the awesomeness that is Zigster for betaing this chapter**. ***foozles senseless***

* * *

"Shit! Cleanup on aisle six!"

I groan, putting the box of Pop Tarts back on the shelf, and jogging over two aisles to assess the damage.

"Incoming!" he crows, coming up behind me with the buggy.

"Edward, you ass! What the fuck are you doing?" I laugh, moving out of his way.

This is one of the reasons we don't normally send Edward shopping by himself. He turns into a freaking eight-year-old, using the buggy as a scooter, sailing through the aisles, creating destruction in his wake.

"I can't steer this thing!" he yells over his shoulder, already nearing the bakery as unsuspecting shoppers quickly jump out of his way.

"Well, then maybe you should get off the damn buggy and push it like a grownup!" I yell back, laughing.

I watch as the cart heads toward a group of girls near the french bread, and they all scoot to the side, giggling at Edward's display as he salutes and sails by, nearly slamming into a case filled with cakes. Grabbing my own buggy, I make my way back to the breakfast foods aisle to grab the forgotten Pop Tarts, my stomach growling at the thought of consuming the frosted, raspberry goodness that I never manage to stick in the toaster.

Turning around, I come pretty close to knocking over the guy behind me. Recognition eludes me for a moment, and I'm a little confused to hear him say, "Hey, Jasper. Long time no see."

Raising an eyebrow at the blond man in front of me, it finally dawns on me that I just literally bumped into James Barbosa, and I reflexively take a few steps back.

"Hey, James. Long time, indeed. Saw your grandfather last week and he said you were coming home."

"Yep, just in time for my twenty-first birthday," he replied with a smile. To anyone else, it probably looked like a genuine, happy-go-lucky smile, but the hard glint in his eye—intensified with the time he spent locked up, I'm sure—let me know that he was anything _but_ happy-go-lucky.

"Well, happy birthday," I say, with a smile. "You look well," I note.

He didn't look half bad. A little bulkier since I last saw him, and the thing that threw me off when I first turned around was the fact that his hair is now cut in a military style, his long ponytail gone. I shudder to think of what he did to get the kind of muscle tone he's currently sporting. It's not hard to imagine many a kid getting the crap kicked out of them by this guy, given his reputation.

"Thank you. It's good to be...back." I can see that he didn't want to use the word "out", being as it would indicate that he was "in" some place before.

I'm not about to voice my thoughts. Best not to aggravate the beast.

Proving that he has yet to attain the law-abiding-citizen status, he tosses the apple he's holding in the air a couple of times before bringing it to his mouth and taking a hearty bite out of it.

"So," he says, noisily chewing his fruit, "whatchoo been up to? In school? Working?"

I raise both of my eyebrows this time, surprised that he's interested in what I've been up to at all. We never were friends growing up. I was always wise to steer clear of the guy, and he had never made any attempt to change that.

"Um," I reply, blowing out a breath in a whistle, "I'm working at The Dusty Stacks part-time, and taking classes at the University part-time. One of these days, I'll have enough credits to graduate."

Nodding, he takes another crunchy bite of his apple.

"Where you live now? Got an apartment? Living with the parents?"

_Curiouser and curiouser..._ I think to myself.

"I live with Emmett, Edward, and Jake in the old Jenks house, actually."

"Hmm..." he hums, displaying at least a small bit of manners and chewing his bite of apple this time with his mouth shut. "I'm staying with Gramps and Alec right now. Gramps doesn't mind me being around, but I seem to easily get under Alec's skin, and as much as it pains me to say it, I need to look for someplace else to live. Know of anything for rent? You guys want another roomie?" He flashes that not-quite-happy-go-lucky smile again.

_Certainly not one to beat around the bush, _are_ you, James?_

"Well, the house is actually full right now. If I find something available for rent, I'll be sure to pass along the word, though," I offer halfheartedly. I can see why his brother wouldn't want him living under the same roof, and that is precisely the reason I don't want him living under mine.

"I'd appreciate it," he answers, giving me an apple filled grin. "Now I better go pick up Alec where I left him. He didn't want me hovering around when he was trying to pick out adult diapers. Imagine that," he adds with a roll of his eyes.

At that moment, Edward whips around the corner of the aisle with his buggy, giggling. "I _love_ how they put the Nilla wafers right next to the bananas. Banana fucking pudding tonight!"

He stops short and his eyes widen in surprise when he sees James standing in front of me.

"Well, I'll be damned, Edward. Look at you, all growed up and shit."

Edward says absolutely nothing. He simply stares as if in shock.

"What? No, 'Hey, James,' no, 'Been a while, James,' no, 'Good to see you back, James,' no, 'Happy Birthday, James,'?"

"Happy Birthday," Edward mumbles, shifting his weight from one foot to the other.

"Thank you. You look good," James replies, his grin growing as he nods in Edward's direction.

Swallowing hard, Edward all but whispers to me, "I'll go get in line. They're pretty backed up. Don't need to wait here forfuckingever."

"Sure," I answer, cocking my eyebrow at him.

Turning my attention back to James, my mind starts turning. If I hadn't known any better, I would say that Edward was afraid of him. I have never seen him act that way with someone. If he didn't like a person for whatever reason, he would be civil and then make the most polite exit possible. Tripping over his words and half ignoring someone is a bit out of character for him, and I can't help but wonder what brought it on.

"He must have been hanging around my brother. He certainly doesn't seem very fond of me," James says, snickering.

"He hasn't been hanging around Mr. Barbosa that I know of, but I'm curious as to why he wasn't his usual charming self just now."

With a shrug, he continues eating his apple, crossing his bulky arms over his chest.

"He still with Bella? I would have given my left nut to have a piece of that ass, I tell ya."

Cringing at his rude comment, I answer, "Um, no. They're not together. They're still close friends though, and I doubt either of them would appreciate knowing what you would give any part of your genitals in exchange for."

Pursing his lips, he looks down and nods. "My apologies."

_Did James just apologize for being rude? Holy shit! Juvie actually works?_

"Who _is_ he doing now?" When I glare at him, he shifts gears a bit. "I'm sorry. Who is he _seeing_ now? I doubt he's the type to stay single for long. I hear tell that he's left a long trail of broken hearts."

James had been in juvenile lockup for five years. How would _he_ know about Edward's sexual exploits?

Not wanting to make a spectacle and chance his good humor taking a turn for the worse, I lie. "He's not seeing anyone, actually."

"No shit?" he asks, raising an eyebrow.

"No shit." Wanting to remove myself from this _Twilight Zone_ conversation, I start backing away with my buggy. "I'm gonna go head for check out now. Good luck to you, man, and take care."

"You, too. See you around, Jazz."

When I finally reach Edward at the checkout line, I notice that we're the last customers in line and the fact that her light is turned off indicates that the cashier will be clocking out after we're through. Edward barely looks at me as he starts combining the contents of our buggies.

"Dude, what are you doing?" I ask.

"We don't need two buggies."

"Yeah, but you're getting stuff for you and Jake, and I'm buying mine and Emmett's things. It would be easier to keep the tickets separate if they're in two buggies."

"I'm spotting y'all. Don't worry about it."

"You're...what? Why?" It's not like he's never paid for our stuff in a pinch before, but that's only when it's necessary, like just before payday or something. He normally doesn't like to dip into his savings unless he has to.

"Easier," he grunts, hefting the case of Emmett's Powerade from the bottom rack of my buggy and setting it on top of the kiddy seat on his.

Once my buggy's empty, he quickly pushes it over into an empty aisle and returns to my side with a half grin.

"This is a totally different thing than say...paying for my burger or something, Edward."

He smirks. "What? I can't buy your groceries?"

Taking the helm of his buggy, he crosses his arms over the handle and leans forward. While I realize he's simply resting, I can't help but think he's positioning himself in that manner to get my mind on something else. If it is, it's working.

"Now, Edward. That's not very nice," I say, keeping my voice low.

"Putting my ass on display isn't nice?" he jokes, quickly glancing over his shoulder.

Taking a quick look around, I decide that nobody is paying us any mind, so I reach out and grab a hold of his ass.

"While that ass is nice," I whisper, "it's _not_ nice to tease."

Snickering, he bats my hand away and pushes the buggy forward in line. There's only one person ahead of us now and Edward's able to start loading the groceries on the conveyor belt.

I look up to see the cashier raise her eyebrow, and I follow her gaze to where it's fixed behind me.

"Well, shit. Of course she'd be closed when the rest of the lanes are backed up to the middle of the store," James grumbles, pushing Mr. Barbosa, who is holding a small shopping basket filled with various items in his lap.

"You're okay, guys. I'm not about to send Mr. Barbosa to another lane. You two are my last customers, though," the cashier calls out.

Turning back around, I notice that Edward stiffens for a moment, before resuming his task. His actions are now more deliberate and rushed. I go to say something, but my thoughts are interrupted when Mr. Barbosa addresses me.

"I think this is the most I've seen of you since graduation, Jasper."

Offering him a polite smile, I reply, "I believe you're right. How are you doing, Mr. Barbosa?"

"Alec, please. I'm doing well," he says, smiling back. He cranes his neck to look around me, and adds, "Hello, Edward."

Edward struggles with the case of Powerade and nearly drops it before James is right by his side.

_Sweet Jesus, he's quick!_

"Here. Need a hand with that?" he asks, reaching out to take the case from him.

"No," he snaps. "I'm good, thank you."

James throws his hands up in surrender and backs off, moving back to his spot behind his bother.

"Dude, you alright?" I ask.

"Fucking peachy, _dude_. I just wanna get the hell out of here." Looking up at the cashier, he adds, "Nothing personal."

An awkward silence settles over us as our items are scanned and bagged. Edward hastily loads the bags into his buggy and digs for his wallet to pay.

Not caring if anyone sees, I lean in close and whisper in his ear, "What's wrong?"

He ignores me and swipes his card, punches in his PIN and doesn't even wait for the receipt before he's pushing the cart toward the exit.

"Edward, will you talk to me? What the hell is wrong?"

I'm starting to get nervous and I hear him breathing rapidly through his nose. Not a good sign.

We're almost trotting as we all but rush for my truck. "I just need to get out of here," he rasps, his voice shaking as he quickly begins loading the bags of groceries in the truck bed.

"Edward, if you don't calm down, you're gonna have yourself a panic attack."

When he goes to push the empty buggy toward a parking lot cart corral, I grab him by the shoulder and spin him around to face me. "Stop! Talk to me, _please!_"

His chest is heaving and his eyes are trained on the exit, not on me.

"He hurt you, didn't he? It was him?"

That has to be the only explanation for his bizarre behavior.

Still not looking at me, he nods his head furiously and it's a struggle for me not to scream.

"Edward, look at me."

The rate of his breathing increases.

"Baby, please. I'm right here...look at me."

It seems like a great effort for him to tear his eyes from the door to meet mine.

"He can't hurt you. You're a stronger man...a better man, and I'm here with you. You're safe. Do you hear me?"

"We've gotta go," he wheezes, reaching behind him for the door handle.

Not releasing my hold on Edward, I turn around and see James pushing his brother's wheelchair out the door. It's then that I realize we're two spots away from a van with a wheelchair lift, and they're heading right for it.

I turn back around to face Edward. "Okay, let's go."

Finally letting go of his shoulders, I make my way to the driver's side door while Edward yanks on the door handle. I hear a small clatter and a scrape just before Edward growls, "_Shit!_"

Realizing he must have dropped his cell phone, I quickly move back to his side to see him crouched on the ground and reaching beneath the truck to retrieve it.

"You guys alright?" James calls out, setting their bags inside the van as the wheelchair lift lowers to the ground.

"_God damn it!_" Edward curses.

"Get in the truck, Edward. Let me get it."

"Need any help?" Mr. Barbosa's soft voice calls out from behind me.

Edward jumps and falls backward, nearly knocking me over before he scrambles to his feet. Once I'm standing, I turn around, almost blocking Edward from the two men who have come over to investigate.

"Thank you, sir," I reply with a smile. "We've got it, though."

Practically ignoring me, Mr. Barbosa cocks his head to the side and asks, "Edward?"

"What? What do you want?" Edward yells, shocking us all. "I get it. You're out of the house." Turning to James, he continues, "And _you're_ outta juvie. I understand you wanna celebrate. Well congratufuckinglations! Forgive me for not rolling out the red fucking carpet."

"That's not what I—" Mr. Barbosa started.

"Then what? What the fuck do you want?" he yells again, his voice growing shrill.

Not even thinking, I urge, "Baby, you need to calm down," and reach back to squeeze his hand.

"Baby?" Mr. Barbosa asks.

_Fuck_.

Crossing his arms over his chest, James adds his two cents. "Well, Jasper, I do believe your pants are on fire. I've always suspected that Eddie batted for both teams, but you—"

"You shut your fucking mouth, asshole!" Edward shouts, lunging for him.

James jumps back, tensing up in a defensive position while I try to restrain Edward.

"James, that's hardly appropriate. Apologize," Mr. Basbosa commands.

"Apologize? For fucking what? I did nothing wrong!" he says, looking at his brother incredulously.

"Apologize."

"Like hell," he hisses before turning around to get in the passenger side door of the van.

"Edward, I'm sorry," Mr. Barbosa apologizes.

Edward's eyes are closed and he's breathing way too quickly for my liking.

"Come on, let's get in the truck," I tell him, trying to keep calm enough for the both of us.

He's shaking so badly that I have to help him put on his seat belt once he's in his seat. When he's finally secured, I close the door and turn back around to face Mr. Barbosa.

"Jasper, please tell Edward I'd like to speak with him when he's up to it."

"With all due respect, sir, I don't think that would be wise," I answer, flicking my eyes back and forth between him and James in the van.

His face looks pained at my words. "I'm sorry."

I scoff. "What do _you_ have to be sorry for? You're hardly responsible for your brother's actions. If you could, though, please ask him to stay as far away from Edward as possible."

Raising an eyebrow, he turns his head to look back at James before turning back around to face me and lowering his eyes to his lap. Clearing his throat, he says, "As you wish."

"Have a good day, Mr. Barbosa."

I know he told me to call him by his first name, but I just can't bring myself to do it. That would be like referring to one of my parents by their first name, and that's all kinds of disrespectful.

I stand outside the truck, watching James step back out of the van to help his brother with the wheelchair lift, and raise him up into the vehicle. I'm mildly curious to see him operate it, realizing that the van had been retrofitted to allow him to drive it, but I don't bother to stay and watch, since Edward's in my truck on the verge of a panic attack. Jogging back to the driver side, I quickly hop in the truck and shut the door.

Edward is taking heaving breaths through his mouth, his eyes squeezed shut and his arms wrapping his upper body in a self-hug.

I'm afraid to touch him, knowing that in the past, it hasn't helped, or worse, made him lose his bearings even more. Instead, I try talking to him as I pull out my cell phone, preparing to call Jake for help.

"Edward, it's just you and me. They're gone and nobody's gonna hurt you. You're safe with me."

When he starts rocking in his seat, I can see he's struggling not to cry. To see Edward, an incredibly strong, confident man, reduced to this state and now knowing what, or who, has caused it makes me furious. It's all I can do to tamp down my anger and keep from screaming. Knowing that Edward needs me right now is the only thing that keeps me from losing it.

"It's been years since..." his breath catches in his throat as he chokes on a sob.

Any fear I had about touching him just moments before is gone, and I slide across the bench seat to pull him in my arms.

"He can't hurt you anymore, baby. I won't let him, you hear me?" I breathe in his ear.

Instead of breaking out of my embrace and pushing me away, he burrows his face into my chest and begins crying in earnest.

While it was always common knowledge that James was a trouble maker, getting into fistfights as early as elementary school, it amazes me that a young James was capable of hurting a guy so badly, badly enough to send him to the hospital, badly enough to leave him emotionally scarred years later.

It suddenly occurs to me that I may not know the entire story.

"Was it just him?" I ask.

I'm both relieved and confused when he nods against my chest. While I know that James has always bested Edward in the size department, James was never built like he is now, and I still can't wrap my head around how he could have hurt Edward so badly.

"Did he use a weapon?"

Horrible images of baseball bats, rocks, or chains being used on him are flooding my mind and making my stomach turn. I may not be able to keep from throwing my truck in gear and speeding off after the van to catch him and fuck him up.

"No," Edward whispers. "I don't want to talk about this."

_Get your head out of your ass, Jasper!_

Christ, I'm supposed to be trying to soothe him, not suss out details about his past. I'm so fucking bad at this.

"I'm sorry. I'm an idiot," I whisper back, kissing the top of his head.

Our trip has been cut in half. After discussing it with Bella's mom, we have decided to meet her in San Antonio, Texas, right about halfway between Phoenix and Jacksonville. After Edward's afternoon, less time in a car sounds like a good idea anyway.

Things have been awkward all day as we prepare for our trip. Edward is visibly tense since we returned home from the grocery store and I find myself touching him whenever I can, assuring him that I'm there for him for whatever he needs as we stuff clothes into duffle bags and rummage through toiletries in the bathroom, debating on what we need to take.

Thankfully, Bella's father has been gracious enough to buy a bunch of stuff to sustain us for the long drive, so that's one thing we don't have to worry too much about as Bella starts arranging our sustenance in tote bags, lining the kitchen counter. Her father blessed us with tons of junk food and snack stuff: Chips, crackers, cookies, cokes, beef jerky, bananas, apples, grapes, and three cases of water. The beef jerky was Bella's special request, because she insists her baby needs it. We all know that it's a craving she just doesn't want to admit to as she lines a cooler with ice packs to put drinks and fruit in. She has also included various flavors of yogurt and Edward and I have assured her that we won't touch it.

Beef jerky and yogurt. The new pickles and ice cream.

When Bella leaves the kitchen, Edward scratches the back of his head. "Is there gonna be room for us in the car?"

"First one to fall asleep gets strapped to the roof."

He finally snickers and I sigh with relief at seeing the first smile on his face since we returned from the store. Stepping close, I slip my hands in his hair and gently kiss him.

"Yeah, I don't think I'm ever gonna get used to that," Emmett mutters as he breezes past the kitchen heading for the basement with an overflowing hamper of clothes.

I chuckle into the kiss as Edward's arms slip around me, pulling me closer. I'm so lost in the rightness of his touch that Jacob's words never register in my brain.

"Yeah, he's in the kitch…you know what? He might actually be out—"

The fact that he goes silent catches my attention. The sharp gasp that follows definitely catches my attention.

Breaking the kiss, I turn my head to see Jacob's hand twisted in his long hair and an "I fucked up" look on his face…and my very stunned mother standing right next to him.

"Hey, Mama," I croak.

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**A/N Once again, I apologize for the delays in updating. Please bear with me :)**


	17. Roadrunner

**A/N Stephenie Meyer owns The Twilight Saga, its characters and everything else. I merely own the laptop on which I wrote this. Thanks to Zigster for betaing this chapter.**

**Update fail. I has it. I also has many sorrys (and an ardent love affair with grammar of a interwebz-savvy-feline nature.)**

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_Oh, shit, oh shit! What do I do?_

I planned to tell my parents something eventually about Edward and I being together, but I never intended my mother to just walk in and have her catch us _en flagrante delicto_.

"What's up?" I ask.

Her eyes flit back and forth between us, and I'm desperately hoping Edward says something to break the ice. Either he's as stunned as I am, and can't say anything, or he doesn't want to overstep any bounds and say something I'd be uncomfortable with.

"Well, I'd hoped you'd tell me, actually."

Mama's face is neither angry nor happy, so I'm unsure how she'd feel if I just blurted out that Edward and I were a couple. Although, it's pretty freaking obvious by what she's seen that we're more than just friends.

"Mama, it's not what you think."

Edward's body stiffens in my arms.

"No, no, no… I didn't mean it like that," I whisper to him.

He raises an eyebrow at me, waiting for me to explain.

"Edward, will you excuse my boy for just a moment? I'd like to speak to him alone." She tilts her chin in my direction and crooks her finger, telling me to follow her.

I disengage from Edward's embrace and swallow hard, pretty sure of what she's going to tell me, but not a hundred percent. Following her into the living room, I hold my breath while I wait for what she has to say to me alone.

"I've suspected that Edward, at the very least, swings both ways, so this is not a shock to me. It is also not a shock that he's, again, at the very least, attracted to you. You're a handsome boy, and I'm sure that's not just my motherly bias talking."

I swallow again, my throat dry. "Thank you, Mama."

She nods.

"Is there something you'd like to tell me? Besides, 'It's not what you think'? Truthfully, I'd love to hear you explain that one."

"I didn't mean that like it sounded, Mama. I just… I… we… I guess you can say I'm bisexual. I mean, I still like girls, but Edward and I are together."

"It's common for young people to experiment with their sexuality, Jasper, and—"

"That's what I meant by saying that it's not what you think. I'm not just experimenting with Edward. Yes, this is new to me… well, not entirely new…" I let my voice trail off as I remember graduation night and the almost kiss—Mama doesn't need to know about that, though. "I've always cared about Edward. Feeling close to him is not new to me."

"You've been doing God knows what with that Alice girl on and off for what? Two years now? And all of a sudden, you and Edward are together? Do you see how this looks, Jazz? God help you if I find out you're using him—"

"Mama, I already said it's not what you think. I'm not using him—"

"But you see how this looks. I can't be the only one who thinks that. I'm sure Emmett has said something to you."

I cross my arms over my chest and glare at her. A move that would have certainly gotten me slapped across the mouth under different circumstances.

"Emmett—and Jacob for that matter—both agree this was a long time coming, and that I was simply the last one to catch on."

"And what exactly is _this_, Jazz?"

"We're together. Edward and I are together and we love each other. I'm in love with him."

_Sweet jumping Jesus wearing moon-shoes!_

Oh my God, I can't believe I just admitted that out loud! To my mother. Before admitting it to Edward. I wonder if he heard me.

She cocks her head to the side, regarding me as if something about me will tell her I'm lying, like the words will suddenly appear on my shirt saying, _Don't listen to him! He's full of shit!_

She finally sighs and closes the distance between us, hugging me tight.

"I should have said this first, but I want you to know that I love you no matter what. It doesn't matter to me who you're attracted to, as long as you're safe and happy."

My breath comes out in a gush on her shoulder and I hold her close. "I love you, too. And we are. I haven't been this happy in a long time, Mama."

"He's a good boy."

"He's a good _man_."

Pulling back, she shakes her head, squeezing her eyes shut.

"All four of you are men now. Your mother's getting old."

Kissing my forehead, she takes my hand and walks us both back into the kitchen. Once there, releases my hand, crosses the room, and pulls Edward into her arms.

"I love you, Edward. You've always been like a son to me."

"I love you, too, Mrs. Esme," he says, tightening his arms around her.

Stepping back, she looks Edward over before pushing his hair out of his face. "Jasper tells me that he hasn't been as happy as he is now in a long time. And I believe him. You keep up the good work, okay?"

"Yes, ma'am." A slight blush fills his cheeks as he smiles.

Turning to me, she says, "Your father should be up here any second. He dropped me off and was running to the gas station to get y'all some gas cards for the trip. And I wanted to give you this."

When she reaches into her back pocket, I stop her.

"Mama. I do this thing where I go to a book store a few days a week and run a register and stock books. The man there gives me money in exchange for my labor. Maybe you've forgotten this? You don't need to give us money. We'll be fine."

She slaps my hand. "Nonsense."

I don't even look at the money she gives me because I'm too busy rolling my eyes as I put the bills in my wallet. I'm so busy rolling my eyes, in fact, that I don't even see her reach behind me to swat the back of my head for my disrespect.

"Sorry, Mama."

"That's what I thought," she grumbles. "Where's Bella?" she asks.

"Right behind you," Bella says.

"Long time no see, sweetheart." Mama steps in to give her a hug. "So y'all are leaving in the morning?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Well, don't go out drinking or anything tonight. Hungover driving is just as bad a driving drunk."

"I can't drink, Mrs. Cullen."

"Oh?"

Bella rubs her stomach and smiles.

"Oh, my word! You're… oh my!" Her eyes quickly flick toward Edward, and Bella and I both give an exasperated, "It's not Edward's!"

Mama has the decency to look at her feet and clear her throat. "Well, it doesn't matter who the father is as long as everyone's healthy, right?"

Bella nods.

Mama glances around at the three of us. "And I'm going to pretend I have no clue what y'all's sleeping arrangements will be," she whispers, covering her eyes.

"Christ woman! Couldn't make it pass Tucson without stopping us?"

Bella holds up her empty Venti-tea-lemonade thingy as if that should explain why we have to stop for a potty break not even two hours into our trip.

Ducking her head back in the window of the car, she says, "Need I remind you that I'm _pregnant?"_

She emphasizes her point by sticking out her tongue at us.

"Truthfully, I'm surprised she lasted this long," Edward notes. "You gotta go?" he asks, looking back over his shoulder at me.

I sigh, and hate the fact that, yes, my three Dr. Peppers have gone right through me. Edward snickers, turns off the ignition, and gets out.

We both head for the head and take care of business. While at the sink, washing our hands, Edward playfully hip checks me and I smile at him in the mirror. Reaching across me for a paper towel, he leans in and kisses my cheek just as a guy walks behind us, making his way for the stalls.

"Faggots," he sneers.

Edward's face turns into a blank mask. Not one that says he feels nothing, but rather one that hints at something dangerous brewing beneath. He is so angry, it's scary.

"Edward, just let it go." I dry my hands and tug at his arm. "It's not worth it."

I'm scared that he's going to go after the guy and treat him like a real live BOB, or at the very least, give him an earful. Any other situation, I would have called the guy out, but this particular instance had the possibility of turning into violence, and if we could avoid that, I'd be a happy camper. Much to my surprise, Edward comes with me back to the car.

We return to the car to meet a smiling Bella. "What's up with the potty breaks, boys? Couldn't even make it out of Tuscon? Sheesh!"

With the mood sort of lifted, we don't even mention the little incident in the bathroom, and I'm grateful to put it behind us.

I have to be the worst road trip companion ever, because as soon as we get going on a smooth—or even not-so-smooth—spot of road, I doze right off. Of course, the sleep isn't always restful, and I find myself waking up from time to time and catching bits and pieces of Edward and Bella's conversations.

I've learned that the baby's father's name is Tyler Crowley, and I've pieced together the fact that he's in the Air Force and was recently deployed to Afghanistan. Because she's had limited contact with him since his deployment, though, she hasn't told him yet about the baby.

"A biracial baby is gonna be so pretty. I can't wait to see her."

"Biracial, baby?" I mumble, rubbing the sleep out of my eyes.

"Yes," Bella answers. "Tyler's black."

I try to picture a darker-skinned version of Bella, and the image is, indeed, quite pretty.

"I'm sure your baby will be gorgeous."

"Thanks, Jazz."

"So you know what you're having already?"

"No, it's too soon to tell. I just want a little girl, you know?"

Nope, I don't, but I nod anyway.

Five bottles of water and two potty breaks later, we arrive in El Paso. Since it's around lunch time, we decide to hit up a Tex-Mex place and are sorely disappointed in their fare.

"This is Mexican food? I can make spicier burritos than this, come on!" Edward declares.

"I don't know, I think it's okay," Bella says as she scarfs down her three enchilada meal.

Apparently, it's not okay, because once back on the road, it's not long before we're pulling over and Bella's telling the side of the highway exactly what she thinks of it. I feel bad for her, but I'm grateful that she's managed to get it outside of the car as opposed to the alternative. Riding in a puke-mobile for several hours is not exactly how I plan to spend my time off work.

"Are you gonna be okay, sweetie?"

"Yeah," she says, swishing some bottled water around in her mouth and spitting it out. "Baby didn't like the enchiladas."

"You want us to find a place to spend the night? We've already been on the road for quite a while," Edward offers.

She ponders the question for a moment. "Well, we aren't planning to meet up with Mom until tomorrow afternoon anyway. I guess it couldn't hurt to spend the night in El Paso."

The only thing that keeps my mind from entertaining raunchy thoughts about being in a hotel with Edward, is the fact that Bella will be there, too. It's just as well because the idea of being 100% alone with him almost certainly means that we will finally have sex, and despite how much I've been pushing him lately, I'm actually quite nervous.

Edward told me that he didn't want to hurt me. Every time we'd done anything sexual he'd stressed that he'd get so worked up that he would almost certainly hurt me in some way if we had actually done the deed. So, I'm pretty concerned about sex hurting. Deep down, I know he will do everything in his power to make it good for me, but I find myself more and more pondering the possibility that I just might not be a bottom.

Of course, that leads me to thinking of topping Edward. That would be so fucking hot. I've come to appreciate Edward's ass immensely, and I can only imagine how tight he would feel if I took him from behind.

Aaaand, I'm hard as a rock.

Fuck.

We pull into a budget inn and get a single room for the three of us. The clerk assured us that the couch was quite comfortable for either me or Edward to sleep on for the night. Little did he know that couch wasn't necessary, but far be it from either of us to say such a thing. The last thing we'd need is a repeat performance of the gas station bathroom incident.

Before we check into our room, Edward makes note of the pool. Bella says she's not interested in swimming and that she only wants to lie down and sleep until January. Poor girl.

We didn't bring swimming trunks, but, being guys, we decide to rock our masculinity and swim in our boxers. I feel bad for chicks for a whole thirty seconds because they aren't allowed the same privilege of swimming in their underwear. It's somehow considered poor form.

Too bad. It's time to cannon ball.

Edward jumps in after me and instead of getting out to do it again—'cause, come on, that shit's fun as hell—he starts making his way around the edge of the pool, like he's looking for something in the filters.

"What's up?" I ask after I've jumped in for a second time and swum over to him.

He ignores me and keeps feeling his way around the wall of the pool.

"This one's better," he whispers.

"What are you talking about?"

"Come here." He motions me closer with his hand, keeping his eye on the pool wall.

"What?"

"Stand right here with your back against the wall."

I immediately do what he asks and feel one of the return jets shooting water at my butt. I smile and chuckle.

"That tickles."

"Now arch your spine so your hips tilt back, and spread your legs," he says, matter-of-factly.

I raise an eyebrow at him and arch my back. Immediately the water from the return jet rushes between the cheeks of my ass and I feel the pressure against me where I'm quite sensitive at the moment.

"Holy sh—"

"I said spread your legs, Jasper," he orders raising an eyebrow at me.

When I do what I'm told, the pressure increases and my eyes automatically roll as my head drops back. If that isn't enough, Edward leans in and seals his mouth around one of my nipples before reaching in my boxers to pull out my hard cock, rapidly pumping in time with the fierce pace of his tongue.

"Oh fuck… Jesus, Edward… oh my God."

I whip my head from side to side, frantically looking for anyone else that might be able to see us and am so grateful to see nobody. Edward switches his lips from one nipple to the other, pulling the nub hard into his mouth, and I fist his wet hair. Just when I feel I'm about to come, he pulls his mouth off me and brings it to my ear.

"I bet there are some people watching us from their windows."

I answer with a deep groan, seeking out the windows and noticing a few don't have the drapes drawn.

"I bet they are watching and getting off on us right now, watching me stroke your cock, watching you grind your ass against that jet. I bet they'd come watching me suck your orgasm down my throat."

I can't form words.

"You're so fucking hot… I love seeing you like this."

I kiss him, stealing whatever his next words would have been, taking his tongue in my mouth, sucking it like I want to suck his dick, and I feel his hard-on press against my thigh as he begins to rock his hips against me, thrusting his erection into my leg.

He breaks the kiss and brings his lips back to my ear a second time.

"Tomorrow," _thrust_, "I'm gonna fuck you," _thrust_, "fuck you so deep," _thrust, _"until you feel me in every cell of your body." _Thrust._

_Oh, I'm definitely a bottom._

"Edward, please…" I want to come so bad.

He slips beneath the water, and I feel the heat of his mouth, awkwardly sucking my cock. Awkward or not, I come all the same, right down his throat in this public pool in front of God and everyone.

When he comes back up, he wipes the water off his face and smiles at me.

He kisses me—small kisses that would have been considered chaste were it not for the taste of my climax on his tongue. In between kisses he asks, "Feeling brave?"

After_ that_?

"Maybe," I murmur.

Edward hops up on the edge of the pool, his legs on either side of me as I turn around to face him and he pulls out his cock, thick, flushed, and wet as he rapidly pumps it.

He doesn't even have to ask before I wrap my lips around him and start sucking him hard and quick. I'm not even aware of the possibility of hotel guests seeing us. I'm not aware of the water of the return jet pulsing over my softening cock. I'm barely aware of the fact that I'm in the water at all, there's just Edward. My Edward. Edward's dick pumping into my throat. Edward's hushed grunts and cries as I continue to suck him.

"Jazz… holy shit. I'm gonna come so fucking hard, baby…"

I know the taste isn't great, but I'm determined to take it all, and I will my body not to jerk in shock when the first bitter splash hits my tongue. I swallow quickly as spurt after spurt enters my mouth. When I finally pull my mouth off him, he snickers and quickly tucks himself back in his boxers before sliding back into the pool.

"That was so _fucking hot_ Jasper… oh my _God_!" He kisses my neck and pulls me in for a tight hug before snickering again and falling sideways into the water, pulling me under with him.

"Wake up sleepy heads," a sweet, hushed voice whispers above me.

"Mmrf."

"Come on… we need to get going, guys." The voice isn't quite as hushed now.

"Nodon'twanna," I mutter into the pillow.

I become keenly aware of Edward's erection pressed into my hip and I snuggle into his embrace, humming.

"As happy as I am that you two have gotten your acts together, this is a bit awkward for me, so can we save the morning canoodling for when I'm not around to witness it?"

Bella's voice was a bit aggravated and reality sets in. Of course this has to be awkward for her. She may be pregnant with another man's baby, but Edward is still her ex, and he's in bed with someone that's not her.

"Sorry Bella," I say, pulling myself out of the tangle of Edward's sleepy arms and legs. "Come on," I urge him with a gentle shake of the shoulder. "Get up."

We finally get back on the road, heading for San Antonio. I've taken over driving with Edward riding in the back seat, and he promptly conks right out. I have to laugh at how alike we are in that respect and I suddenly don't feel so bad about doing the same thing when he drives.

"So, do you have names picked out yet?" I ask Bella.

"If it's a girl, I'm naming her Helena, after my grandmother, Helen. If it's a boy, I'm naming him Charlie, after my father."

"Both very good names."

She simply nods and stares at the road in front of us.

"You okay?"

"I'm scared, Jasper. Scared of how things are going to be with my mom, scared that Tyler won't want anything to do with me or the baby, scared of not being a good mother, scared of the pain of labor, scared that something might happen to my baby… I'm so overwhelmed."

Tears stream down her face and she furtively wipes them away.

"I can imagine it's a scary situation to be in, but I think everything will work out fine. And you'll be a great mother. You're a wonderful, caring person and your baby will be lucky to have you as a mom."

"Thanks, Jasper." She smiles.

When we reach Fort Stockton, we stop for a bathroom break and encounter the most outrageous thing ever. Apparently, the town is home to the World's Second Largest Roadrunner.

So, of course, we have to get our pictures taken with it.

"Edward! Stop humping the roadrunner!"

"He has a name, you know," Edward announces, laughing.

"He does?"

"Paisano Pete."

"How the hell do you know his name?"

"I googled that shit, Jasper." He dangles his cell phone from his fingertips as he tries to wrap his arms around the statue's leg.

I take one last picture and demand that we be on our way.

Only three more hours until San Antonio. Only three more hours until Bella is reunited with her mother.

Only three more hours until Edward and I are finally alone.

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**A/N Thanks for reading :)**


	18. Gay Things in Public

**A/N Stephenie Meyer owns The Twilight Saga, its characters and everything else. I merely own the laptop on which I wrote this. This chapter is un-beta'd. I apologize in advance for any fuck-ups.**

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I should be enjoying San Antonio. The Riverwalk is quite nice and something I should be paying attention to, but I'm not. I should be enjoying this water taxi ride down the canal, but I just keep mulling over how Edward and I will soon part ways with Bella and then be on our own. It's impossible for me not to think about what Edward said in the pool yesterday, about his plans for us today when we're alone.

How will this play out later?

Is he gonna wait until tonight when it's time for bed? Or is he going to pounce on me the moment Bella leaves with her mother?

Does it matter?

Not really.

Our water journey is a bit of a struggle while I restrain myself from taking Edward's hand. Texas, after all, isn't the most gay-friendly state in America, so I have to be careful. Edward hasn't made any kind of move to change our positions, so I'm pretty sure he's being cautious about the same thing. It was only yesterday that we had the encounter with the gruff bigot of a man in the restroom in Tuscon—in our home state.

Around Emmett and Jacob, it's one thing to show my affection for Edward. Around strangers who could possibly take great offense to something as simple as handholding between two guys, though, I'm very nervous.

"You okay?" Edward asks.

"Yeah, I'm fine."

"Don't lie."

"I'm not lying. I'm just thinking."

"About what?"

"Stuuuuff," I drawl with a sideways glance.

I get a chuckle out of him which in turn triggers my own, and I'm grateful for the opportunity to dispel some nervous energy. Not only am I preoccupied with Edward's plans for later, but I'm concerned about how things will go down with Bella and her mother. The situation has the potential to be either very painful, or just painfully awkward.

And lunch time is rapidly approaching.

As it turns out, Bella's mother, Renee, is a trip.

I had no way of knowing if Bella's reunion with Renee was going to be joyous or tear-filled when we met up at the restaurant. I imagine now that asking Bella how she thought her mother would react would put much unneeded stress on her. Certainly, it's something she's already given plenty of thought to, though. A mother learning her daughter is pregnant, who then suddenly ups and leaves the state, only to come back home in the end, might not be considered a perfect situation. The potential for awkward was a very tangible thing.

I needn't not have worried, though. Things have gone better than expected so far. Even if their reunion hadn't been a combination of joy and tears, however, it would have been incredibly difficult to focus on them at all since are surroundings are more than distracting. The restaurant where we're having lunch is a jungle.

I really wish that was a euphemism.

We have already placed our drink orders and I'm pretty overwhelmed by the we're-not-even-gonna-try-to-deny-the-gimmick décor and rainforest theme of this eatery. I'm attempting to ignore the creepy animatronics taking place directly behind me in the form of a gorilla and a lion having a Tarzan-style shouting match, but despite how sweet it is to see the tears of happiness in Bella's mother's eyes when she hugs her daughter, I can't stop glancing at the thick, synthetic fur swinging around directly behind me.

And since there is simply not enough going on, there's a also fake thunderstorm. Of course.

It's been roughly twenty minutes now since we've placed our food orders, and I think I'm finally used to the cacophony of rainforest distrations when a rather loud clap of thunder rings out and I startle in my seat.

"Christ on a Slim Jim, are they trying to scare a better tip out of us?"

Bella's mom garners way too much delight from my outburst and laughs heartily as Bella covers her face and snorts.

"So, at what point in the pregnancy is a baby shower customary?" Edward asks.

"I'm guessing after the sex of the baby's been determined?" Bella suggests.

"Why would you _do_ that?" Renee asks, a look of genuine surprise on her face.

"Do what? Find out what I'm having? Because I want to, and I'd like to know if I should start scoping out dresses or little pant suits."

"Really, Bella? Pandering to gender conformity already? Have I taught you nothing?"

"If I had been a boy, would you have put me in a dress just so I wouldn't be confirming to my gender?"

"Absolutely."

"Somehow, I wholeheartedly believe that," Edward says with a chuckle.

"Excuse me?" Renee asks with faux scorn.

Edward whistles and looks around the overwhelmingly obnoxious restaurant before noisily sipping his drink through his straw.

After a couple moments of silence—as silent as a situation can be when King Kong and Mufasa are duking it out—Edward adds, "I'd just like to be able to plan a trip that doesn't involve driving for hours on end."

"Oh!" Renee responds. "Baby showers are for the ladies. No boys allowed."

Edward raises an eyebrow. "What were we just saying about gender conformity? Would you like me to wear a skirt? A micro-mini leather number, perhaps?"

I look off to the side, not sure if that image is more intriguing or disturbing.

"That's different," Renee declares.

"It is? It basically sounds like if someone has a penis, they're not allowed at the baby shower."

"That's correct," Renee replies, stubborn.

"What if the baby's a boy? Are you going to make Bella leave the party?"

"That's hardly the same thing."

Edward turns to me. "That sounds like a triple standard, Jazz. What do you think?"

"Oh, I'm hugely offended," I answer, nodding.

Bella looks like she's trying not to pull something by holding in her laughter.

"You boys are impossible." Renee rolls her eyes.

"It comes with the gender," Edward says with a wink.

My knee hits the bottom of the table when Edward hooks one of his ankles around one of my own. He is the absolute picture of innocence, so I give him a good-natured elbow to the rib, and he laughs with his straw in his mouth.

Renee raises an eyebrow in a silent question to which Bella answers, "They're probably playing footsie. They're still in the honeymoon stage of their relationship."

I blink at Bella for several seconds before Renee says with all the grace of a fifteen-year-old, "Oh. My. God!"

My face fills with heat.

"I know, right?" Edward replies. "This Dr. Pepper is the shit!" Lowering his head, he takes a noisy slurp through his straw.

Renee leans across the table, and in a stage whisper that anyone within three tables' distance can hear, asks, "Are you two _out_ _of the closet _yet?"

"Good grief, Mom! 1997 called. They want their caged-animal-curiosity back."

"Oh, stop it. It's a legitimate question."

This is starting to sounds like Rosalie all over again.

"Not exactly, Ms. Renee. I'm still peeking through the crack beneath the door, actually," I answer.

"Oh! Sorry!" She lowers her voice to a not-quite whisper again. "My bad."

"Okay, Mom? This particular conversation is over," Bella says, rolling her eyes.

When our food arrives, everyone digs in, either out of hunger—which I'm sure is true for Bella, since she's eating for two—or the desire to not break into more awkward conversation.

Everyone but me.

I take a couple bites of my burger and wash it down with sweet tea, only slightly amused at how Edward practically gags at the scent of my drink, but I really have no appetite for my food. We've made it through one stressful situation today basically unscathed, but there's still that little matter about my gay virginity that my sex-starved brain keeps returning to, and how it will be disappearing in a matter of hours—or less!—that still has me quite nervous.

Because the environment isn't overwhelming enough, a half-assed clown comes up to the table, wearing a bit of garish makeup but nothing else to indicate his profession. Nothing save for the fanny pack stuffed with balloons he's now manipulating into a poodle, and a monkey, and a palm tree, and a unicorn, and a sword… Edward and Renee laugh at the display, and all I can hear is the stretch and snap of the balloons before he inflates them, and they're prompting me to think about condoms. It's all I can do to not think about how the balloon hat suddenly resting ton my head thanks to Bozo the Unimpressive is quite possibly ribbed for her—_his?_—pleasure.

When the clown leaves after Renee stuffs a couple bills in the guy's apron, I smile and politely wave as I discreetly place my balloon hat on top of King Kong's head and wipe imaginary latex lube off my hands on the legs of my jeans.

"You okay?" Edward asks.

"Aces," I croak, excusing myself to escape to the restrooms.

One guy is drying his hands when I walk in and lean against the sink, and just as he leaves, Edward enters, approaching me slowly from behind, holding my gaze in the mirror.

"Have a clown phobia?" Edward asks, the corner of his mouth turning up just a little.

"First of all, that man has no business calling himself a clown. Second of all, I am _not_ a coulrophobe."

Edward's eyebrows shoot up in disbelief.

"It means someone who has a fear of clowns."

"I kinda gathered that, Jasper," he notes with a smirk, sidling up closer to me. "I just didn't realize there was a scientific term for it. So, what's the problem? You barely touched your food." He props his chin on my shoulder and slides his arms around my waist, regarding my reflection in the mirror.

"I'm just distracted, I guess. Anxious."

"Bad anxious?"

I can't stop myself from nuzzling the side of his head like a cat.

"I'm kinda nervous."

His arms tighten around my waist.

"It's gonna hurt, isn't it?"

Edward's eyes flutter closed and he sighs against my shoulder before pressing his lips to my neck.

"I can't guarantee there will be zero pain involved. What I _will_ do is everything within my power to help you relax, and make sure you know how very much I love you with every touch, every kiss." He emphasizes his point by brushing his lips just under my jaw and my shiver is automatic as the reflection of his bright green eyes flash at me in the mirror. "I'm not going to be conceited and say I'm gonna turn you on so good you'll forget your own name, but know this: It is my goal to make you rock hard, breathless, and incoherent. It's my plan to make your brain form the words, 'Fuck me, Edward,' and for your lips to struggle to form them."

My body is melting in his arms, and I kinda hate how just a few words have such a profound effect on me. I'm slumping in his embrace and it makes me uncomfortable with how he's so capable of making me feel vulnerable. It's a foreign feeling, and I almost envy Edward in his ability to do that.

There's something else that makes me anxious that I've been unwilling to acknowledge up until this point, though.

"What if I'm not what you expect? If I'm not as good as you're used to?"

Edward makes a sound of disbelief in his throat.

"It's a valid concern. Don't laugh at me," I say, frowning.

"I wasn't laughing," he replies, burying his face in my neck.

"I can count on both hands how many girls I've been with and still have a few fingers to spare. How does that compare with your numbers? What if I'm a mediocre or lousy lay?"

He scoffs. "My numbers…"

"Yeah, Edward. Your numbers. How many people have you had sex with?"

He gives my reflection a slow blink and a sigh. "Are we talking actual sexual contact, or what Bill Clinton defines as sexual contact?"

At that moment, the door swings open and Edward backs away from me, stepping to the side to unnecessarily wash his hands. I do the same, as the guy who came in uses the urinal.

Lowering my voice, I answer Edward's question. "The latter."

Edward vigorously scrubs his hands, pursing his lips in thought and bobbing his head minutely as he presumably checks off numbers in his head. As we both rinse, his eyes meet mine in the mirror and he smiles.

"One."

My expression shows my confusion.

"One what? One dozen? One hundred? One gross?"

"One. As in the number that comes before two. As in one point zero. As in one more than zero. As in, she's out there talking to her mother and that's it."

Edward dries his hands as I stand in front of the mirror, letting the water continue to run like a dumb ass, and urinal guy leaves without coming near the sink.

Edward steps behind me again, pressing against my back and leaning forward to shut the water off. His lips tickle the back of my ear as he breathes hot and wet against my skin.

"I'll be the first guy you've ever fucked?" I whisper.

He nods against me, teeth nipping my ear lobe.

I don't know what possesses me to ask my next question.

"And, you've never _been_ fucked?" That was mildly disappointing. I'd be less nervous if he knew about the level of possible pain involved from personal experience.

He hitches a breath against my ear and closes his eyes for a moment before answering. "Once."

I raise an eyebrow. "I thought—"

"It was hardly worth acknowledging or remembering."

Well, _that_ certainly sucks. "That bad, huh?"

"Not ideal. I try not to think about it."

Before I can dwell on it any further, Edward spins me around and kisses me, stealing my breath as I return his affection, tangling my fingers in his hair. His smiles against my mouth and my heart jolts when the bathroom door swings open and a trio of teenage baseball players barrel through, laughing. Edward has his back to them, but doesn't pull away, seemingly oblivious of the boys now using the urinals.

I hear a wolf whistle, and a low "bow chicka wow wooooow" and I unconsciously laugh into Edward's mouth… right up until I hear a sing-song, drawn-out "faggots" drift over from the urinals. We both turn to look at the culprit wearing a number 19 jersey, as he gets a healthy slap to the back of his head from his buddy wearing the number five right before he zips up.

Number Five's voice is a harsh whisper, but every word is clear.

"Is that what you call Riley, you dumb fuck? Watch your mouth. No need to be a douche bag just because nobody wants _your_ sorry ass."

Number 19's whisper is equally easy to hear.

"Well, not everyone grows up with a gay brother and automatically knows how to react to gay things in public."

Number Five grabs Number 19 by the scruff of the neck.

"What fucking difference does it make? Apologize for being an asshole."

The kid turns around red-faced, thankfully zipped up as well as he rubs the back of his neck and winces, eyes downcast.

"I'm sorry."

"_Louder,_" Number Five growls.

"I'm sorry!" Number 19 croaks. "I shouldn't have said that."

"Apology accepted," I reply with a falsely confident tip of my chin.

"Same here," Edward says. "Keep in mind, though," he continues, stepping closer to Number 19, the kid's eyes growing wide, "the next gay man with a black belt might not be so quick to forgive." Edward grins and pats the boy on his cheek before taking my hand and leading me out of the restroom. We both nod in thanks toward Number Five before heading out.

When the door closes behind us, Edward stops me and presses his ear to the wooden surface.

"What?" I ask.

"I'm just being nosy," he whispers.

I decide to play along and listen, too.

"What the _hell_ is the matter with you?" The voice clearly belongs to Number Five, and he's close to shouting.

"They were kissing! What was I supposed to do? Sing a porn track like you did?"

"Probably not, but the guy wearing cowboy boots thought that was funny."

I hold my hand over my mouth to keep from laughing. I _did_ think it was funny.

"My point is, there's no need to insult anyone, least of all because they attracted to someone you don't think they should be attracted to."

"You know I don't think like that—"

"Then stop acting like you do, because if you don't get the shit kicked out of you by a gay martial artist, you sure as _hell_ will get your ass kicked by me next time. Got it?"

We quickly pull away from the door and head back to our seats, with me chastising myself for not giving people more credit.

When we return to our table, Renee gives us an expectant look.

"Were you _safe?_" she asks in that obnoxious stage whisper again.

Of course, there is such a thing as giving people _too_ much credit…

"Oh my _God,_ Mom! Are you _serious?_" Bella asks, her voice raising about three octaves.

"Yeah," Edward says with a smirk as he leans across the table. "Right up until I gave him a blow job against the sink and the baseball team came in and jerked off on us."

Every speck of color drains from Renee's face at Edward's words, and I choke on my tea.

Sitting back in his chair, Edward's smile disappears. "They were out of paper towels and the auto dryer was broken," he fudges. "You should count your lucky stars we even remembered to wash our hands after using the bathroom, because not everyone else in this restaurant does."

"I… I didn… I'm…"

Edward shakes his head and smiles again. "Bygones. Has the check come yet?"

"Yes!" Renee says, clearly anxious to change the subject. "Just waiting for the girl to bring back my card. Lunch is on me, guys."

"You didn't have to do that, Ms. Renee."

"Nonsense, Jasper. You brought my baby and grandbaby to me safely. It's the least I can do."

We both thank her profusely, and something catches my eye a few tables over.

"Hey, look, Edward! The baseball team!"

Renee groans, "Oh my God…"

I let her stew in that for a moment until I see Number Five taking his seat and staring at his ticket, then digging out his wallet with a look of concern on his face.

Before I can finish the thought to even say something, Edward is flagging down a waiter.

"Excuse me, who's serving the baseball players over there?" he asks.

"I am, sir."

"Great!" Edward pulls out his wallet, taking out a couple bills. "I'm covering Number Five's meal. Whatever's left is yours."

"That's very kind of you, sir. Shall I tell him who this gift is from?"

Edward declines with a shake of his head.

As the waiter returns to his own table, our waitress comes by, and Renee quickly scribbles out a tip, total, and her signature on her receipt before we get up to leave. I glance over at the table where the baseball team sits, noting the look of surprise on Number Five's face. I read the word "Who?" on his lips and the waiter just smiles and shakes his head. That doesn't stop Number Five from looking around the restaurant, seeking out his benefactor. His glance stops at me and he raises his eyebrows. I covertly point at Edward, the only one at our table not looking at the baseball team until Bella reaches across and punches him in the shoulder.

"What?" he asks, and I push his face toward the baseball team's table. He lets out a small laugh and gives Number Five a wave. Number Five smiles big and holds up his hand in a peace sign.

As we leave the restaurant, Renee asks, "What exactly prompted you to pay for his lunch?"

Edward pretends to ignore the question and turns my head to examine my face. Licking his thumb, he swipes it beneath my eye.

"Missed a spot?" I ask.

Edward nods, continuing to examine my face. "Yeah, I didn't realize he got you so close to your eye."

Renee stands by the door dumbstruck while Bella, Edward, and I howl in laughter.

As far as goodbyes go, it was a good one. There were happy tears and awkward hugs, awkward only because Renee didn't know where to touch us since she hadn't completely put it out of her mind that Edward and I possibly had a debauched interlude in the bathroom at that ridiculous rainforest restaurant, leaving us invisibly sticky.

Now, in Edward's car heading back to the hotel, Bella and her weird mother are the furthest things from my mind. Regardless of how my apprehension of touching Edward in public has lessened, and the fact that we're in a car with presumably more privacy, I'm restraining myself from touching him in any way. And every part of me is screaming to touch _something._ Take his hand, squeeze his leg, lean over the console and give him a hickey on his neck, rip open his fly and jack him off while he drives… If I give in to the slightest contact, it will surely cause us to have an accident. I don't want to die before Edward and I have actual, bonafied, penetrative, pole-to-hole sex.

"What are you thinking about?" Edward asks, his voice low and gritty, stripping away my verbal filter.

"Pole-to-hole sex… and that should have stayed in my head where it belonged…"

Edward almost swerves off the road, all-out cackling, his eyes crinkled up in laughter as he practically leans over the steering wheel.

Looks like we're gonna die anyway…

"What I _meant_ to say, was that I have to basically sit on my hands to keep from touching you, because I don't want to cause us to have a wreck before we get back to the hotel and we get to… you know..."

Using his forearm to wipe tears from his eyes, he says, "Oh, wait. You think we're going back to the hotel to do that _now?_ I was kinda hoping to get a nap first, Jasper."

I can't stop myself from slumping in my seat. "Oh…"

"I'm messing with you, baby. You'll be lucky to get the door closed to our room before I attack you." His expression is deadpan, and I can't understand how he doesn't appear to be anywhere close to half as affected by the situation as I am. It's wrong. I should fix that.

"I want you so bad." My words came out in what can only be described as a rusty groan, and Edward's cheeks flush a deep red.

_Score!_

"It literally hurts to not touch you right now. I want to kiss you, suck on your neck right here…" My hand trembles as I point at a spot midway up the side of his neck, almost touching, but not quite. "I want to rip off your shirt and drag my lips from your neck to your nipple, here…" I turn my hand slightly so my fingernail barely catches on the material of his shirt, pulling it down to circle around the spot where my mouth will eventually be.

A muscle bunches in his jaw, and his blush hasn't faded.

I move my hand farther down his shirt, stopping just above his jeans. "I want to open your fly, pull out your dick and swallow you down till I gag—"

Edward lets go of the gear shift and wraps a firm hand around my wrist, his jaw muscle flexing as his nostrils flare.

"Can't… don't… accident… pole-to-hole…"

I snicker uncontrollably as I pull his hand to my mouth, gently kissing his knuckles.

There. Even ground.

Since we don't have anything left in the way of refrigerated items, we have only our backpacks with our clothes and toiletries to bring with us into the hotel. I'm thankful for that, because I can't guarantee anything will be making its way into a refrigerator in enough time for it to be useful later when we finally reach our room. As it is, I'm bouncing on the balls of my feet as we wait our turn to check in. I'm just a wee bit impatient.

"Gotta pee?"

"Nope!" I answer excitedly. "Besides, if I did, it would be virtually impossible right now."

Edward hides his smile behind his hand as we approach the counter.

"Hi!" he says, cheerfully. "Masen, Edward. Checking in."

"Yes, sir," the girl flashes a brilliant smile as she types his name in her computer. "I have you down for two queens…" I barely contain my snort of laughter, "non-smoking, is that correct?"

"Sounds like a winner. Is there a way to request it out of the way at all? Away from other guests? I'm a horribly light sleeper. If a mouse so much as farts in the next room, I'm a cranky bastard the next day."

The check-in girl blinks at him for several seconds before composing herself. "Very well, sir. I'll have you know, though, that we pride ourselves on having a meticulously clean environment, and as such, you will have no problems with vermin—"

"It was a figure of speech, ma'am. I wake up easily."

"Of course, sir."

After inputting the rest of Edward's information and credit card details, the clerk hands us our key cards and we make our way to the elevators. When the doors open, we step inside and something occurs to me.

"Um… did you bring condoms and lube?"

Edward's eyes bug out of his head. "Oh, shit."

It's pitiful how sad my reflection looks in the mirrored walls at his words. I guess we can turn around and make a drug store run, or maybe the front desk has somethin—

"Relax, I'm kidding," he says, chuckling.

_Oh, thank God…_

When the elevator doors open, my heart begins to pound, the force strong enough where I fear it'll break a rib or three. After adjusting his backpack on his shoulder, Edward takes my hand and gently pulls me down the hall. My stomach is in my throat the entire trek down to our room and I hold my breath while Edward makes three attempts to swipe his card through the lock. The slow-blinking, almost bashful look he gives me over his shoulder when the door opens wipes out every shred of nervousness I have.

When the door closes behind us, I turn Edward around and shove him up against it, sealing his mouth with mine. The sound of the growl caught in his throat goes straight to my dick and I press myself against him. His hands are at my shirt, tugging it up and I break the kiss only long enough to let my backpack slide off my shoulders and for Edward to pull the garment over my head. I start grabbing at his shirt, wanting it off, too, but he beats me to it, shucking his bag and his top. Edward toes of his shoes and yanks off socks while I hop around gracelessly, tugging off my boots and socks. When we're both barefooted, Edward hauls me close and his tongue licks across my lips, slipping into my mouth making my knees almost buckle.

Edward pushes off the door and walks us across the room until the backs of my knees connect with the mattress of the bed closest to the exit. When they do, I plop down onto the bed and Edward follows me down, climbing into my lap, his arms draping around my neck as we continue to kiss. I hitch back a little bit, trying not to cause us both to topple off the edge of the bed, and I instinctively grab Edward's ass in the process. He groans and rolls his hips into me, causing me to whimper as he grinds himself against my hard-on.

Reaching down, I undo the clasp of his belt, the sound of metal catching on leather fills my ears as I release it and pull the belt free from his jeans. Edward begins rocking into my lap, rubbing himself against me, and it's making me delirious as I try to open the fly of his pants.

"Edward, stop… you're making this difficult."

With that, he hops off my lap and quickly opens his fly, wriggling out of his jeans as I start to do the same thing. When I get my own pants off, Edward's back in my lap, kissing me, his hands roaming every inch of skin he can reach.

Shoving me back onto the bed, he finally moves his mouth past mine, kissing along my jaw, his lips tickling their way up to my ear as he sucks my ear lobe into his mouth. I gasp as he nibbles and then moves his mouth to kiss the sensitive skin behind my ear.

"Roll over, love."

I honestly expected more foreplay than what we've had, but I am not about to complain, which is evident by how I nearly jostle Edward off the bed in my effort to turn onto my stomach. He drags his hand down the center of my back, and I reflexively arch like a cat, my hips tilting up and off the bed as he reaches the waistband of my boxer briefs.

"Do you have any clue how fucking hot you are, Jasper?"

He's straddling my ass and I can feel his hard dick through both layers of our underwear as he rocks against me, all the while mouthing, biting, and sucking the skin on my neck and shoulders. I'm a writhing, needy mess beneath him as I whine and gasp each time his mouth makes contact. Every time his hand sweeps down my side to briefly rest at my hip, I tilt my ass just a little bit more.

"Jesus, you're fucking eager for it, aren't you?" he whispers directly in my ear.

"Yeah… oh God, yeah… I want it… please…"

Shamelessly begging _should_ make me feel embarrassed, but it totally doesn't.

Edward sits up and hooks his fingers in the elastic of my underwear, peeling them just off my ass, and I struggle to spread my legs just a bit farther.

"Fuck, baby... so hot like this for me. You're testing me…"

I feel him shifting behind me and then my entire body jerks when I feel what is clearly the length of his cock slide between the cheeks of my ass. Turning my head, I look over my shoulder in time to catch him releasing a long string of spit onto my ass just above where the head of his dick rests in the cleft. Then, grabbing the shaft, he smears his saliva down between my cheeks before repeating the process.

He did say he brought lube and condoms, but far be it from me to give a flying fuck about those things right now.

When he's satisfied with how he's slicked me up, he rocks himself against me, his erection sliding effortlessly up and down, and he grabs a cheek in each hand to squeeze me around him.

"God yeah, baby… please…"

"Wanna fuck you so bad…"

"Damn it, fuck! Do it, _please…_"

I start rocking against him, trying to entice him into giving me what I want so fucking bad, but he's having none of it. Instead, he leans across my body to lick between my shoulder blades, then reaches beneath me to take hold of my dick and mindlessly thumb the head.

"You're killing me, Edward…"

"Oh, I'm not nearly done with you yet," he promises, teeth grazing my neck. "I'm gonna turn you over and finger you open, stretch you wide and make you weak. Then I'm gonna lick the head of your cock until you're _dripping,_ then suck your cum down my throat while I pinch your nipples. Is that okay with you?"

"Jesus!" I sob into the thin bedspread.

He flips me over like a rag doll and practically tears my underwear the rest of the way down my legs before throwing them off to the side.

He leans in for a moment and seems to remember something, hopping off the bed and sauntering across the room, shimmying the rest of the way out of his own briefs before digging into his backpack for a bottle of lube and a strip of condoms. He tosses them on the bed beside me before climbing back on top of the mattress and pushing my knees up and out, completely opening me to him. It never occurs to me to be embarrassed over being so exposed, especially with the hungry gaze he fixes on me.

"Perfect. Everything about you, love."

_That's_ why I'm not embarrassed.

He snaps open the bottle of lube and dribbles some out onto his fingers, and I keep my knees drawn back to my chest. Smiling at me, he then closes the bottle and drops it back onto the mattress before bracing his weight with his hand on one of my legs. My breath hitches when I feel his slick fingertips tease and press at my hole briefly before one pushes inside. Edward leans back on his haunches leaving his other hand free to sweep up and down the length of my cock, pausing to thumb the spot just below the head as he continues to finger me.

Pushing in a second finger, he twists them, slowly stretching the rim while his other hand ceaselessly teases my dick. Leaning forward, he licks and bites my hip bone, making my body jerk with each nibble across my tattoo.

"Edward," I whisper.

"Yes?" He kisses the black ink on my skin, barely meeting my eyes and his bottom lip is still pressed to my flesh.

"Remember when you were fing… _oh God…_" Edward pushes his fingers in deeper, as far as they can go.

"Yes?" he repeats with a mischievous smirk on his face.

I momentarily forget what I was about to ask because he continues to finger me deep. My dick aches so bad the small amount of discomfort I'd felt from the intrusion is forgotten. It's obliterated when Edward curls his fingers and my breath catches when I wait for him to find my—

"_Fuck!_" I grunt, reflexively reaching down to grab a fistful of Edward's hair.

I can just barely hear his low chuckle right before he says, "You were about to ask me something?"

"Never mind." My words are more ground out than spoken as he strokes my prostate with his long fingers. "Didn't even have to ask."

He winks and licks a slow, wet stripe up my shaft, brushing his lips against the head of my dick and fluttering his tongue just beneath the ridge. True to his word, he's relentless until I'm dripping pre-cum onto my belly, and I can't stop squirming on the bed. My balls draw up tight when his free hand slides up my ribs with his thumb and forefinger capturing my nipple in a teasing pinch.

"You're so quiet," Edward rasps, not even lifting his mouth away from my dick. "It's starting to give me a complex. I asked for an out-of-the-way room for a reason, baby…"

Pinching my nipple again with one hand, he presses his fingertips of the other against my prostate at the same and I start hollering a string of gibberish, prompting Edward to finally take my dick in his mouth in a completely-engulfing, tortuous suck. Each cheek-hollowing slurp draws straight from my balls and I can't stop yelling until I shoot into Edward's mouth. Holding his head still, Edward withdraws his fingers from me and jacks my dick, his lips sealed tight around me. Before long, I start babbling, begging him to stop when my cock becomes far too sensitive to continue receiving Edward's thorough attention.

Climbing up the bed, he hesitates with his mouth hovering just above mine for a moment and I lean up to kiss him, my tongue in his mouth tasting the evidence of my orgasm and he pushes me back onto the mattress, covering my body with his own. I wrap my limbs around him and he sinks into me, his hard-on digging painfully into my hip.

Edward finally breaks the kiss, leaving me gasping as he grabs for the strip of condoms.

"Wait," I pant, having a difficult time forming a fucking sentence in my brain. "I haven't even touch… do you want me to—"

"If you touch me right now, this will be over in five seconds, Jasper."

I nod and just try to catch my breath.

Edward tears off a condom and nudged the latex down with his thumbs so he can rip the package open without damaging the prize inside. My heart pounds in my chest as I watch him roll the rubber onto his dick, squeezing the air out of the reservoir in the tip like a good little High School Health Class Student. His long fingers are hypnotizing as they work and his pink tongue peeks out of the corner of his mouth as he concentrates.

"How can you manage to make putting on a condom look sexy?" I ask, my earlier nerves making a return visit.

Keeping my focus on his hands, I notice how I'm not the only one who's nervous, as those hands tremble ever so slightly when he opens the bottle of lube once again, squeezing out a hefty amount into his palm before slicking his length. I swallow hard when he drops the bottle beside me and his eyes meet mine.

"Any time you need me to stop, I promise I will. I swear it. I don't care if you say it now, or if I'm halfway inside you, or if I'm about to come, it doesn't matter. I won't get mad, I won't hold it against you—"

"Edward, I love you. If you don't fuck me right now, I'm fairly certain I will die."

He blinks a couple times in silence and I realize what I just said. I smile.

"That wasn't just some flippant comment. I'm serious. I do love you. But, I'm just as serious about the other part—"

Edward falls forward and all but crushes me beneath the force of his kiss, making soft, throaty noises as my hands grapple for purchase across his shoulders. My brain nearly fails to register Edward's arm working between us until I feel the blunt press of his dick against me, enough pressure to make me dizzy and I struggle not to sob into his mouth. When the head pops past the muscle, it's like a punch to the gut and I squeeze Edward's body tight with my arms and legs, afraid I'm going to somehow fall away from everything. He rocks his hips forward a bit and there's a slight edge of a burn, and I squeeze my eyes shut tight enough to see stars and I hold my breath.

"Need me to…?"

"No, no…" I breathe. "Don't stop."

As he pushes deeper inside me, it hurts a little and I can't keep a whimper from escaping.

Edward pulls back. "I don't want to hurt you."

"It's okay," I assure him, my hand flitting to his face. "It's just gonna take some adjusting, that's all."

When he spreads his knees a little between my legs, I instinctively tighten around him, and I'm not entirely sure if the expression on his face is pleasure or pain. His words answer my unspoken question when he says, "Don't… don't do that. I'm pretty sure I'll come if you do that again."

Hardly enough to discourage me, I determinedly bite my bottom lip and squeeze even tighter around him. He dips his head back down to bury his face in my neck and inadvertently thrusts the rest of his length inside me in one go.

"Fuck…" I gasp into his shoulder, shivering as Edward pants hard just below my ear.

"I'm sorry… are you okay?" he mumbles against my skin.

"I'm good… just don't stop."

The drag is intense as he pulls out, even more so when he rocks back into me. My entire body shakes and Edward's voice is strained. "Jasper… oh Jesus… just…"

I turn his face toward mine so I can kiss him, unable to properly form words myself. When Edward's hips find a rhythm, words aren't necessary, sentences out of the question. Once my body has adjusted, I try to do everything physically possible to pull him deeper inside me. My heels dig into his ass, my arms form a vice-like grip across his shoulders and I grind down against each inward thrust.

"Need more… need you deeper..."

Edward smiles against my neck and asks, "Did you just take a shot at my size?"

"_God,_ no! You're huge!" He laughs at that. "I'm just greedy…"

"Well, if you want deeper, I can give you that. Turn over."

I try not to focus on how empty I feel when Edward withdraws, and I scramble on to my hands and knees, pressing my chest into the bed with my ass as high in the air as I can get it.

"My imagination did this absolutely no justice, Jasper. Seeing your ass fucked open and on display like this…" He squeezes both my cheeks and I spread my knees farther.

"Come on… fuck me,_ please…_"

Then he's filling me, clasping my hips as he pushes in and I'm right there at the brink, my body trembling.

"I'll give you anything you want, baby, but just know that doing this slow will be quite difficult for me."

"No… no slow. Hard and fast. I need it. Drill me…"

"Dri… Christ. I had plans for our first time to be nice and gentle." His voice is tight and it's hard to tell if his words are tinged with disappointment.

I feel kinda bad now. Here I am, pretty much demanding he fuck me through the mattress, and he had planned this to be sweet and romantic all along. Yesterday, in the pool, he said he would fuck me deep. He didn't say it was gonna be a hard-and-fast porn fest. True enough, things have been far from sweet since we entered the hotel room, but this is different. This is a connection we haven't had before. Just because I like it more rough than gentle doesn't necessarily mean he does. I've been too selfish. Not to mention, I've never been on the receiving end of a thorough plowing. I've just enjoyed giving one. This could be totally different, and I'm probably getting ahead of myself.

"Don't listen to me. My brain ran away. I just need you, Edward."

He lets out a nervous laugh and leans over my body, his voice rumbling right in my ear.

"You misunderstood me. I just keep getting caught off guard by how fucking perfect you are for me. I want to give you _exactly_ what you've asked for."

_Never mind!_

"Please…"

"And you're so polite about it…"

He clasps my chin in his hand tugging it up to stretch out my neck right before he fastens his hot mouth right on my artery and sucks.

"_Fuck!_ Please, Edward!" His thumb slips over my jaw, brushing over my lips and I draw it hard in my mouth.

Growling, Edward sits up and grasps my shoulders, fingertips digging in, surely leaving bruises. I arch my back and spread my knees some more, rocking back against him, silently asking him to get this show on the road.

And then he does.

His pace is quick, quicker than I expected it would be and I can hardly breathe each time he bottoms out with his hips making rhythmic, fleshy slaps against my ass. The obscene sound, his grunts, and the deep repetitive punch of his dick inside me make me dizzy and I find I can breathe again when I start shouting. Words like _harder, yeah, right there, just like that,_ run a continuous loop and I'm going out of my fucking mind. I had _no clue_ it would be this good.

I reach down to fist my dick and I'm almost embarrassed by how I whine, "_Jesus,_ I'm about to come…"

When I shoot onto the bedspread, it's borderline painful. Edward lets out what sounds like a startled yelp when my body tightens around him as I come and my knees can hardly bear my own weight any longer. I almost miss Edward's strained, "_Coming…_" and I'm surprised how I can actually _feel_ him filling the condom inside me right as we both collapse on the bed.

Both of us twisting around on the mattress, Edward manages to pull out and he disposes of the condom in the wastebasket by the bed.

My body's still shaking, and I scrunch up my face when I roll over the wet spot. Edward makes quick work of pulling back the bedspread, kicking it to the foot of the bed and getting both of us under the sheets. Hands and mouths roam wherever they can reach and I, for one, remain breathless, despite my calming heart and my body's exhaustion and need for a nap.

"Love you," I whisper, dragging my lips up Edward's jaw to his ear.

"Love you, too," he says, grinning and pulling my mouth to his.

"That was…"

"Yeah."

"Stay here the rest of the day?" I ask, tilting his head back to mouth his Adam's apple.

"I'm game."

"My body says, 'sleep', but I just don't wanna…"

I start wriggling my way underneath the sheet, tonguing and nipping his skin.

"Sleep's overrated."

True facts right there.

* * *

**A/N Thanks for reading!**


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